


I Carry Your Heart with Me

by prongsdeer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, True Love, background buckynat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 73,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsdeer/pseuds/prongsdeer
Summary: “Even when I was numb, I felt you. It’s like I’ve always had you.”Soulmates are connected through pain. Steve always wanted to find his and protect them from all the suffering they had to go through. He imagined meeting them a thousand times before, but he never thought that a pair of cold, empty, emotionless eyes would stare back at him. They are so different, yet so alike.





	1. Prologue

**Brooklyn, 1935  
**

The sinking sun painted the streets golden, the gentle breeze carried the sweet smell of blooming flowers. In the late afternoon, the tree-lined park was quiet and peaceful. Steve took a deep breath in and didn’t look up from his sketchbook while he pulled his jacket closer to protect himself from the cool spring air. He was a million miles away, lost in his own thoughts where no one could reach him.

The pencil slipped and fell from his trembling hand when a sudden pain shot through him, knocking the wind out of his lungs, as if someone kneed him in his stomach. He knew that feeling all too well; except, this time, it was not his own. The ache dulled before it completely faded away, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

For Steve, it took a long time to realise he had a soulmate. He was in pain so often, both due to his poor health and his inability to keep his mouth shut, that it was hard to separate his from someone else’s. A wounded knee or a bruised elbow once in a while was all he felt from his soulmate.

Up until a year ago.

It started unexpectedly and became a daily phenomenon. Aching muscles, stinging cheeks, sore limbs. From the day it started, he knew someone was hurting them, because who would willingly want to go through all of this?

And if their own trouble wasn’t enough on its own, they also had to suffer through everything Steve did. When his heart ached, they felt that, too. When he nearly choked from the tightening in his chest, his pain burned their lungs, too. When someone punched him in the face, broke his nose, or kicked him in the stomach, his soulmate experienced like it was their own.

Pain was a constant in Steve’s life—he got used to it. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t have any other choice. He learned to cope with it and to stand up from it, ignore it as much as he could. And yet, every single time he was in pain, he wished, longed for it to end, because he could not stand the thought of hurting his other half.

“I knew you’d be here.”

Steve whipped his head around with a frown, even though he recognized the voice immediately. Bucky walked to the bench from behind and rested his elbows on the backrest, smirking.

“You know we have a double date in an hour, right?”

Leaning down, Steve picked up his pencil, slipped it between the pages and closed his sketchbook. “You know they are both coming because of you, Buck,” he said quietly, looking into the distance. He sounded bitter, but Bucky knew jealousy was not the reason for his tone.

“After all the good things I’ve told them about you? I doubt it.” He playfully shoved his friend’s shoulder, before he sat down next to him. His smile quickly fell, noticing something was off with Steve.

“Come on. How will you ever  find your soulmate if you never go out?”

Steve shook his head. “Something’s telling me I won’t find her here.”

“You can’t know that.”

Looking away, Steve remained silent. Besides his mother, Bucky was the only one who knew he had a soulmate, but he never told any of them that they were in so much pain in the past year or so.

The truth was, it frightened him, and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it; no one could. While the idea of there being someone out there tied to him filled Steve with joy, the path that led to this person was not appealing at all. What kind of a sick joke was the universe playing at, he wondered so often. How was he supposed to find them? If there was the smallest chance, the tiniest sign, he would go and follow it no matter what he might have to go through in order to find his soulmate and stop their suffering.

But he was in the dark.

“Is this about your soulmate again?” Bucky asked gently, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.

He turned to him and shook his head, trying to pull a smile. “Yeah. Never mind. Let’s go on that date.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bucky said cheerfully, patting him on the back before he stood up. Of course he wished Steve could find his soulmate, but he knew he wouldn’t if he kept brooding and isolating himself from everything. He would never let him do that, and while sometimes it was hard to convince Steve to step out of his comfort zone, he was glad Bucky never left him alone.

**Moscow Oblast, 1937**

One, two, balancing. Three, four, tombé-pas de bourrée. Five, six, seven, eight. Come down.

“Again.”

One, two, balancing. Three, four… how many more? Tombé-pas de bourrée. Come down. Repeat. The soft chord of a piano filled the grand, well lit-room. Six, seven, eight. Watch your shoulders. Watch your back. Don’t rush.

As the music went on, slowly, you stopped thinking. All your movements, just as the other girls’, turned instinctive. The result of an iron discipline.

One, two, balance. Ballet was something graceful, pure, releasing. It should not belong to a place like this, but you were happy it did. Dancing was one of the very few things that was not taken from you. Three, four. You must never miss, and you never did.

Pain pierced through your heart, sharp and quick and strong enough to throw you off balance. You stumbled, reflexively pressing your palm tight against your chest before you could prevent yourself from doing it.

The music stopped, but the silence that filled the place was louder than the melody of the piano before. It was heavy, unnerving. Looking up so fast like you could just undo your mistake, you found the instructor’s eyes: the cold steel gaze that you had tried to avoid the entire time. Now, it burned a hole into you, with the promise of something ominous.

Without saying a word, you regained your posture and grit your teeth together to get through the heartache that wasn’t really yours. You swallowed hard, held his gaze and kept your face straight, praying to whatever God was out there, that just for once, they would forget about punishment.

But there was no leniency in the Red Room.

“Again,” the instructor’s sharp voice cut through the silence and once more, soft music filled the room.

One, two, balance. Without looking at him, you knew he kept his eyes on you, looking for the smallest mistake.

**Moscow Oblast, 1943**

Warm water cascaded down your body, melting the tension away and washing the long day off. Sweat, dirt, blood. Yours or someone else’s, you didn’t know. Didn’t care.

The long room echoed with voices from the other girls; talking and laughing, some even singing. There wasn’t much privacy with only short partitions separating the showers, but at least you were all alone here. No instructors, no trainers, no handlers.

Washing the soap off your face, you bowed your head to watch the red stains on the white tile, and your thoughts wandered to your soulmate. You wondered what they might thinking of you, if they ever ponder where all the pain is coming from.

You did, all the time, because in the past few years, their pain had become nearly permanent. Deep ache in the muscles you only felt after a long training. Pain in their heart, so strong as if someone was squeezing it with an iron grip. Burning lungs, like someone set your—no, their insides on fire.

Someone was pushing your soulmate’s physical boundaries, over and over again. They always had been weak and sickly, you had learned that much, but for a while, it was more than that. It crossed your mind that maybe they had joined the army, but who would accept them with their condition?

There were times when it hurt so much, you were actually scared that they were dying, but no matter how unbearable the pain was, it seemed they never gave up. While it scared you, it also helped a lot. There used to be so many days you wanted to quit, in any way, but the way they fought to defeat their weaknesses always filled you with hope . It helped you to hide when it hurt, because showing weaknesses in the Red Room was not an option. If they could keep going, you could, too.

Even though you had never met them, even though they could be on the other side of the world, your soulmate had saved your life multiple times already.

“Are you not coming?”

You quickly turned on your heels at the voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. Dottie stood in front of your shower, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

She gave a small shrug and left the bathroom, humming quietly.

All the other girls had left by then, so when you turned the tap off, silence filled the place. Other than the dull ache in your legs, there was barely any other pain now except your own. It almost felt strange—you hadn’t felt them so rested in months.

After you towelled your body dry and put on the plain white nightgown, you started towards the door. It was when you heard it: quiet, broken sobs that echoed through the empty room. Frowning, you went to look for the source, and it didn’t take long for you to find the girl crying under the shower. She stood in a far corner with her forehead pressed against the wet tile.

“Natalia?”

She turned around with a gasp and quickly brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. It was hard to keep yourself from giving her a pitying look. She was a few years younger than you, already more skilled, and so, so kind at heart. Girls like her had the hardest time in here. Killing the softness out of them was a lot of work, too much work. But they had a way to shape them, bend them before they would break.

You liked Nat, and you knew she liked you, too. Both of you were different, and you had always tried to seek out people like you. It was dangerous to make friends here, but it was not a choice. Some people, on one way or another, just belonged to each other.

“I got soap into my eyes,” she said, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her body. It was a cheap lie, but she said it so confidently she could have fooled anyone who didn’t catch her crying only seconds ago.

Walking closer to her while her back was at you, you hissed up from a sharp pain in your shoulder. It was barely more than a sting of a bee, but it came all too suddenly. You rubbed the skin, and the feeling was quickly gone.

“Nat…”

She turned to you, but for a few seconds, you just stood there without saying a word. What could you say to her? You both went through the same.

Dozens of bee stings again, all over your chest.

“Are you feeling alright?” Nat asked with a concerned frown.

“Yes,” you said, clearing your throat. “Just…” you stepped closer, turning your voice down. “Please be careful. You can’t let them see you like this.”

Nat cast her eyes down. She knew you weren’t just talking about the teachers but about the other girls, too. They weren’t all friendly. Sometimes, a small part of her wished they would catch her, so it would end.

“Sometimes I just wonder if… what we’re doing here—“

“Don’t,” you cut her off firmly, but kept your voice quiet. “It’ll only get you in trouble. We don’t get to choose, Nat.”

Eventually, Nat nodded. There was a sadness deep in her gaze, but she managed to give you a tiny, but honest smile that you immediately returned. You started towards the exit, but once again, you were stopped.

The pain was sudden, severe. There was no warning—it came out of the blue and started at the highest level. It made you squeeze your eyes shut and stumble back until your back hit the damp wall.

“Y/N? What is it?”

Nat’s voice felt distant and you couldn’t answer. Your ears were ringing loudly and you lost control over your body, slipping to the floor. Hot and cold waves shot through you; your skin burning. Only for a second, you opened your eyes, but the entire room was spinning so fast it made you sick.

You could barely breathe.

“Y/N, please… Oh my God. I’m calling someone.”

“No!” It was a mystery how you could gain enough strength to even say the word, let alone sit up and  grab Natalia’s wrist. She looked at you, fear in her green eyes.

“But…”

“Please, just… don’t. You can’t tell them. I’ll be—“

It was all you could get out before your eyes closed again, letting go of Nat’s arm before you would break her bone. Every muscle, every fiber in your body hurt, strained. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before, and while you knew it wasn’t your own, you had no idea what caused it.

Nails dug into your palms, teeth into your bottom lip with such force that they drew blood. You did everything to keep yourself from screaming.

What couldn’t have been more than a minute felt like an eternity, and stopped as suddenly as it came. For a few seconds you couldn’t move, still numb from the intense pain. Then your head cleared enough to hear Nat’s voice, quietly repeating your name.

Slowly, you sat up from the fetal position your body had curled into. Leaning your back against the wall, you raised your head up to the ceiling and hugged your knees to your chest, calming down your breath.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?”

Finally, you opened your eyes to look at her. For the past nine years, you had managed to keep your secret from everyone, even from those who had taught you to lie in the first place. How much could you  tell her? You ran your palm down your face, wiping away the tears, though you didn’t realize you were crying.

“I have a soulmate,” you whispered so quietly she could only hear because she sat inches from you. Nat straightened, a scared expression on her face. You immediately grabbed both of her shoulders with a pleading look in your eyes.

“Please. You can’t tell anyone. They’d… if they ever find them…”

Your voice broke, and you stopped. Having a soulmate was rare. In here, it was a weakness. You had no doubt the Red Room would want to keep you nonetheless, but they would do anything to find your soulmate and cut off the ties.

“Natalia, please.”

She swallowed hard. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

You fell back, sighing in relief. There was something in her that made you trust her, and it scared you.

“But… what happened? What caused so much pain?”

“I have no idea. I have never felt anything like this before,” you said quietly, and shivered at your own words. What caused so much pain, Nat’s question echoed in your head again and again. You felt your pulse beating in your throat and pleaded silently to feel some of their pain, any sign that they were still alive.

When you stood up, you felt it. Aching limbs, aching back. For the first time, pain was relieving.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback, I'm glad so many of you liked the prologue! I hope you'll like this chapter too, but let me know what you think. :)

**Washington, D.C., 2012  
**

There were many days when you were glad your soulmate was dead. Days when every inch of your body ached. Days when heaps of fresh bruises and cuts covered your skin. Days when it hurt more than most people could tolerate it; when there was nothing but pain and suffering. Even though you chose this life – at least to a certain degree – you would have never wanted anyone to go through all of this because of you.

But your soulmate was long gone, so it didn’t matter anymore.

Unzipping the front of your catsuit, you slowly slipped out of the black material and held it in your blood-stained hands. You traced the small eagle on its shoulder, mulling over the same question that bothered you so often: was it worth it?

Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed like a reasonable choice, the best, or maybe the only one you could make. It provided a promising opportunity, a fresh new start you longed for. It sounded like a fairy tale and you knew it was foolish of you to think like this, but deep down you hoped it would help erase all the horrible things you had done for the K.G.B. Little did you know back then there would be plenty of questionable acts you needed to do here, too.

Putting the suit away, you stepped into the shower. The hot water just burned your wounds even more, but at least it helped to ease the cold you always felt ever since your soulmate died.

No matter how much time had passed, you could never forget the day it happened: nearly seventy years ago, on a warm summer evening. There was so much pain that day, just like it was during the few months prior to it, that you couldn’t even imagine what your soulmate was up to. Strangely, nothing hurt as much as when the pain stopped, leaving nothing but a biting cold in its place. It was the kind of you felt deep in your bones; it burned, no matter how many clothes you put on or how hot the water was when you showered. Sometimes it eased, but it never left.

Throughout the years, maybe because you got used to it, it had gotten better. The pain dulled, but you always felt cold, numb.

Silent sobs broke out of you. Even after all these years, nothing could ever fill the void your soulmate left behind. It was easier to bear the pain when they were still alive; it gave a sort of meaning to it. Most times, you thought it was for the best they didn’t have to see what you had become, but it did nothing to quell the emptiness. Some days you felt like you lost your only chance to happiness.

The sun had long gone down when you finally left Fury’s office after your debriefing. The dimly lit corridor stood empty, quiet, with only your footsteps echoing. Pressing the call button, you waited a few seconds until the elevator made its way to your level, before you stepped in.

“Downstairs.” Your voice came out raspier than you expected it to. Closing your eyes, you leaned against the wall, but a couple moments later the doors opened again.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

With a weary sigh, you straightened yourself. “Rumlow.”

“Nice job in Vienna. I heard you tracked down the men and caught them within a week. Alone.”

“Since when does Fury give away information about my missions?” You asked without looking at him, silently wishing the lift could go faster.

“Since I should’ve been there too, but you left a day earlier without telling me.”

You turned to him with a small smirk. “Sorry. I work faster alone.”

“Maybe,” Brock said, taking a step closer. “But it would have been more fun if I was there.”

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head and decided he wasn’t worth your energy tonight.

“Are you free tonight, agent?”

The elevator arrived at the ground floor of Triskelion and you walked out, not even sparing him a glance while you answered, “Not for you.”

***

From time to time, the cold got worse. It made you a shivering mess, and you had no idea what exactly caused the change. It was one of those nights, except you had never felt anything like this before. The burn was so deep and so intense that you felt like screaming, and frankly, it scared you.

Giving up on the report you had tried to finish, you closed your laptop and took a hot shower, but it did not help one bit. You even checked your body temperature but you knew it would be normal. Since you received a variation of the well-known super soldier serum all those years ago, you were resistant to most, or maybe all diseases.

No—it had to be something other than sickness. It increased up to the point you could barely move, so you put on your thickest sweater, wrapped yourself into the two of your warmest blankets, and fell into bed. You knew it would keep you up all night. It burned, like you had spent hours outside in the freezing snow, standing naked in a snowstorm, or were buried in a block of ice.

A silent tear fell. It used to be easier to bear the pain; but now it was just meaningless and you wished you could end it someway, any way. There was no point anymore, no escape, no light at the end of the tunnel.

You had no idea when you fell asleep from the exhaustion, but when you jolted awake, you were still tired and you felt hot. The change was immediate and unmistakable. Kicking the blankets off, you tore the sweaters off your sweat covered body, but the cold feeling that was so familiar by now was gone.

It was impossible not noticing it and you shivered from the sudden ominous feeling that washed over you. Nearly seventy years of endless cold. What stopped it?

Nevertheless, you tried not to focus on it and move on with your day. You went for a run, took a long shower, and washed your hair. Sat down at the table and tried to continue the mission report, but hours later, you still stared the flashing cursor.

Keys clinked and the door opened, shaking you out of your thoughts. Nat walked in with a tired smile on her lips and with Clint’s hand on her shoulder. He looked just as exhausted as always. For a short time, they made you forget about what had been bothering you since you woke up.

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Clint said while he collapsed on the couch and pulled a small blanket that barely covered him, over his body. “Good night.”

“Is he living with us now?”

“Give me a break,” he said, already half-asleep.

Shaking your head, you walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, while Natasha made some coffee.

“How did your mission go?”

“It was… a lot,” Nat replied shortly. Whatever she meant by that, she had the tiniest smile on her lips, and it warmed you up. You hadn’t seen her so genuinely comfortable around anyone for a long time, but she grew very close to Clint. “How was yours?”

“Just the usual.”

“So I’ve heard.”

You heaved a sigh. “How’s that everyone knows about it even before I had a chance to finish my report?”

“You practically told Pierce’s favourite agent to fuck off, stole a quinjet, and went on a dangerous mission alone,” she said, flipping the switch on the coffee maker before she turned to you. “Of course everyone knows.”

“I didn’t steal anything. That quinjet was assigned to me.”

Natasha studied your face silently for a while. Even though both of you preferred to work alone, she learned to adjust to it faster and more easily than you did. She knew you took jobs alone if you had a choice, but she also sensed there was something more to it now.

“Why did you want to go alone?”

“Because they didn’t want me to.”

Your answer only made Nat arch an eyebrow so you took a step closer, involuntarily turning your voice down as you explained.

“When I told Fury I wanted to go to this mission alone, he said it shouldn’t be a problem. But Pierce… he didn’t want to hear about it. I found it strange. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t do alone. And see, I easily did it alone.”

“You don’t think Pierce assigned Rumlow to you to help you, but…”

“But to prevent me from doing something, maybe? Keep an eye on me?” You crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. “But I didn’t find anything. Maybe I am so used to getting stabbed in the back, I can’t stop looking over my shoulder anymore.”

Nat remained silent for a while. She understood more than anyone; after all, you both went through pretty much the same things.

“All those years ago you were the one who gave me the strength to keep going and to adjust to the new life I got. How about you take your own advice and just… try to get used to it?”

You cast your eyes down.

“I know it’s hard for you to work in a team. It was hard for me too. Still is. But we got another chance. We shouldn’t blow it up.”

“Well,” you breathed out, somewhat relieved you could share your concerns with someone who knew what you were talking about. “It would be easier if I got an actual team. Instead of men like Rumlow.”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the place and into the living room, and even before Natasha had a chance to grab herself a cup, Clint dragged himself into the kitchen. He ruffled his dishevelled hair and poured himself a full mug of coffee, yawning.

“I feel like shit. How much have I slept?”

“Three minutes.”

“That explains a lot.”

Nat and you exchanged a quick, smiling glance, but her expression suddenly changed as she walked towards the fridge.

“Oh, have you heard about Captain America?”

“Captain America?”

“Yeah, they found him,” Nat said, almost casually, putting milk and sugar into her coffee.

“What do you mean they found him? The wreck of the ship? His shield? His bones?”

“No, him,” Clint said this time, downing the remnants of his hot beverage. “He’s alive. He’s just been frozen in ice since…”

“1945,” Nat finished.

It took a while until you finally processed what you’d just heard. Throughout the years you’ve learnt and experienced many things, but it seemed there were still a few things that could surprise you.

“How could he have survived for so long?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is still running tests, so no one knows exactly. But I guess the super soldier serum also gave him extreme survival capabilities.”

“Would you two survive it too?” Clint asked while he reached for the coffee pot, but Nat took it from him with a warning glance.

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t try it out.”

“I could really use 70 years of sleep,” he said. “But the cold… He must have felt the cold, right?”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Nat and Clint’s voices sounded distant while they talked, as if they were carried from a great distance. Your lips fell open and your knees trembled under the weight of the truth. You should have realized earlier—of course you didn’t feel cold all the time for no reason.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, voice a little weak, but managed to change your expression in the blink of an eye. “I just didn’t sleep much. I should probably go to sleep.”

Lying had been your job for too long; it was a skill you had perfected throughout the years. Hiding emotions became easy, effortless, even when your feelings nearly broke you. If you could lie to your handlers in the Red Room, you could lie to anyone.

Fooling Nat was never easy, but it seemed she believed you. She didn’t have any reason to think otherwise, after all. She was the only person who knew about your soulmate, and the only person she knew they died decades ago.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you held your breath and your composure, but the moment you reached your bedroom and closed the door, you collapsed. Pressing your back against the door, you stared into nothing with wide eyes. The clothes and the comforters you tore off of yourself still lay at the foot of the bed.

Slowly, you slid down to the floor and hugged your knees up to your chest, wrapping yourself in sweet denial for hours. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Your soulmate was dead; you accepted it and learned to live with it. For sixty-seven years, you lived your life knowing he had died without even getting a chance to know who he was or what he looked like. How his laugh sounded, how it felt when he smiled at you, how his touch felt, how his eyes sparkled when he looked into yours.

Your thoughts wandered back to the only times when you felt your soulmate daily. A Russian lullaby echoed in your head on repeat until you had to press your hands on your ears. You remembered the heartache, the burning lungs, the straining muscles, and everything slowly fell into pieces. No matter how much you tried to deny, Steve Rogers was your soulmate.

The sun slowly went down and you gained enough strength to drag yourself into your messy bed. You didn’t check your phone, even though you heard its buzzing multiple times since you had closed yourself into your bedroom. You hugged your blanket close for some comfort.

Too many emotions swirled inside you and you weren’t sure what you should think or feel. Should you be happy? Relieved? You didn’t feel any of them. You spent seventy years firmly believing your only chance to true happiness had been taken away from you.

There were many days when you were glad your soulmate was dead, and you had no idea how to handle the fact that he wasn’t.

**Brooklyn, 2012**

The windowless gym somewhere in the basement of an old building in Brooklyn long emptied. The owner had fallen asleep with his head on the desk while an episode of a crime show played on the small television close to him.

Steve pushed back the loose strands of hair out from his sweaty forehead and glanced at the watch on the wall. It read 3:14 in the morning. Which meant he came down here about three hours ago and it was his first water break.

Spending his night hitting punching bags wasn’t rare. In the past three weeks, since they thawed him out of the ice, it was hard to find rest. Every time he closed his eyes or spent more than two minutes with his own thoughts, memories washed over him like a storm. Noises and smells, voices and smiles, pain and pain and pain. Things he only experienced weeks, months, only a few years ago, but in reality, they happened a lifetime ago.

He beat the punching bag like there was no tomorrow, because he felt like there wasn’t.

When Steve woke up, Nick Fury reassured him there was a place for him here. He couldn’t find it, and though he knew it would maybe just take a little more time, he felt like he would never get there. He lost time, lost his home, lost his friends, lost everyone he ever knew. Every night he fell asleep, Steve wished that when he woke up, it would all turn out to be a nightmare. But in the morning, he always found himself in a strange bed and looked through the window to realize he will never go home again.

Up until a week ago, when he felt an ache, deep in his bones that definitely was not his.

He knew immediately what kind of pain it was: he had felt it too many times before he crashed the Valkyrie into the ice. Steve thought there might be a small chance his soulmate was still alive - aged but alive - but from the pain he felt, he knew they had to be young still. They were fighting, just like all those years ago. Like nothing had changed.

Knowing his soulmate was still out there sparked hope, but he had too many unanswered questions to be entirely happy about it. Besides the obvious question (how were they still alive?), what bothered him the most was if his soulmate knew about him or not.

For Steve, the nearly seventy years he had spent in the ice seemed like seconds. Sometimes, especially on sleepless nights, he remembered the icy blue and the biting cold that had surrounded him for so long. It always caught him at unexpected times; sometimes in his dreams, sometimes when the cold wind ruffled his hair, sometimes when the shower was too cold. He remembered then how much it actually hurt, even though at the time he wasn’t aware of it at all. He knew, unless his soulmate didn’t spend their time sleeping too, they had to feel everything; the pain without an end, years after years.

The punching bag flew through the room and he just stood, panting.

He wanted to find them, at least to look into their eyes and ask what happened, and most importantly, to apologise for all the pain he caused. When he was much younger, Steve promised himself he would find them one day, but just like back then, he was clueless now, too.

If his theory was right, they would have felt Steve’s pain while he was buried in the ice, but it should have stopped by now. Everyone around the world knew they found him: the news had spread like wildfire. It was easy to connect the dots. What if his soulmate knew about him but chose to stay away from him? Maybe they couldn’t bear to look at him after all the suffering they had to go through because of him. Maybe Steve wouldn’t be able to look at them either from the crushing guilt he felt.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Steve stopped at the voice and looked at the man who stood at the door. He hadn’t known him for too long, but he had already learnt that Nick Fury never had any good news for him.

He kept punching the heavy bag, deep down hoping that he was wrong and Fury would leave soon. But why would anyone come to make small talk at four in the morning? Something was wrong and they needed Captain America.

“I slept for seventy years, sir. I think I’ve had my fill.”

“Then you should be out, celebrating. Seeing the world.”

Once again, Steve stopped. Seeing the world? He had already seen enough. Everywhere he went reminded him of what he had lost. There was nothing to be celebrated here.

“When I went under, the world was at war,” Steve said, taking the tape off his hands. “I woke up, they said we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”

“We’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently.”

Here were go, Steve thought. “You here with a mission, sir?”

“I am.”

“Trying to get me back into the world?”

“Trying to save it.”

Pain shot through his legs, stomach and back. Steve tried to keep his face blank while he felt someone was kicking and punching his soulmate, but nearly lost his composure when he saw the file Fury handed to him. He was right, after all. The world hasn’t changed that much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! New chapter! I love reading your theories about this story so don’t hesitate to talk to me. Thank you for the lovely comments 💕

**Washington, D.C., 2013  
**

Having a soulmate was rare. In the nearly 90 years you had spent in this world, you could have easily counted how many people you had met that had one. Sometimes you talked to them and listened to their stories, hoping it would make you feel less alone, but very soon you realised, as it was with so many things, that you were an outsider in this, too. Except you, everyone was happy; everyone who had someone tied to them by fate. It was a gift, they said. A blessing. The feeling of being with their soulmate couldn’t be compared to anything else. It was true and pure, it made them feel whole and content, like going home after a very long journey. But there was nothing pure in your story.

In the past year since you had learned your soulmate’s identity and that he was still alive, you had plenty of time to think. About the past and the future, about him and you. Oscillating between days of being happy and days of feeling absolutely miserable tanged your thoughts and nearly drove you crazy. After the first shock of realization, there was a short period when you wanted to find him and let him know it was you; that you were still here, just like him.

Even though you were only a few years younger than him, you had a huge advantage: while he slept through and lost nearly seventy years of his life, you had lived yours. You had lost a lot too, but it was still hard to imagine how must it feel to be pushed into the next century without any chance of going back to your own time. He had to learn and process everything within weeks, and that too all alone. Maybe if you were by his side, it would have been easier for him. But there was also a chance meeting his soulmate would simply be too overwhelming for him after everything that happened.

So you chose to stay in the shadows for as long as you could. For weeks, months even, you kept telling yourself that you kept the truth from him to spare him, but the only person you’d been trying to save was you. Just because you were his soulmate, why he should be happy it was you?

Not long before he was found, you started to think you had already learned to live with your past, but this short period of sweet oblivion disintegrated into pieces once you learned who your soulmate was. How could you look the man in the eye when he was nothing but selfless? One who had a good soul, a pure heart, and was the farthest from everything you had ever been? You were raised and made to be a weapon; you lied, cheated and killed ever since you could remember. What would Captain America say if he knew his soulmate was one of the most fearless assassins that came out of the Red Room?

Staying away from him now that you knew he was alive was one of the hardest decisions of your life, especially because you both worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. When you saw him for the first time, you knew it would be a torture to see him daily.

_“Are you feeling alright?” Nat asked while you both leaned against the glass railing of the gallery. Steve crossed the main hall of the Triskelion with Coulson at his side, stopping here and there to shake hands with people. The building was loud as many filtered out of their offices to see America’s Golden Boy._

_“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You tried to seem as calm as you could. Seeing him in person for the first time, even from the distance, knocked the air out of your lungs. The urge to go and talk to him was tremendous._

_“You’re making googly eyes at Captain America.”_

_Instead of denying, you laughed it away. “Are you blaming me? He looks like he’s sculpted from marble.”_

_She smiled in agreement, but she had a suspicious look in her eyes. “Since when are you so easily hypnotised by a pretty face?”_

_“Since him, I guess.”_

Natasha had no idea how true that statement actually was. Once again, you decided to keep the truth from her. While you shared a lot, almost everything with each other,  some things were better left unsaid. She was an Avenger now, Steve and her both, and you were already scared she would notice something. She was close to you and she was getting closer to him. The question was not if, but when.

Hiding from Steve wasn’t easy; nor was it a smart idea. Simply meeting him or talking to him wouldn’t have changed anything; your secret would have still stayed safe, yet you chose to avoid him. Since most of the time you were sent out on missions by yourself, you didn’t need to worry much about working with him, but considering your status, there was always a chance they would send you with him.

For more than a year, you successfully avoided him.

Playing with the new knife you got from the special weapons department, you left the room and let the door close without looking around the long corridor. It was silent, except for a low and distant conversation you hadn’t paid attention to; not until a certain word caught your ears.

_Captain._

Snapping your head up, your gaze quickly found Steve and a man in a suit that you didn’t recognize, talking at the door of an office. Tucking the knife into your belt, you picked your pace up. The elevator was close, but the short walk seemed never-ending. With every step, you felt like you had been walking backwards. It was embarrassing, really, and it wasn’t the first time you ran away on seeing him.

A sigh of relief passed your lips when you were finally at an arm’s reach from the call button, even though you still felt like someone was at your heels. A deep voice proved you weren’t wrong.

“Excuse me.”

Freezing, you closed your eyes and let out a slow breath. Nothing could have ever prepared you for this, no matter how many times you played this scenario in your head. Before you turned around, you made sure he could read nothing off of your face.

“Captain.”

Steve kept a safe distance, but stayed close enough to catch you if he deemed necessary. He didn’t have his shield with him and he wore the pants of his stealth suit with only a tight, black shirt. His eyes darted to the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the shoulder of your suit, the knife hastily strapped around your hips and the thigh holsters, before he found your face again. You were glad he took his time to look you over, even if it was for safety reasons rather than anything else. If he had started to ask questions immediately, you wouldn’t have been able to give a coherent answer. It was the first time you saw him up close and it was a breathtaking experience. He was not only beautiful, but the strong pull you felt made you feel weak in your knees. You wondered if he felt something even remotely close to this.  

“Do you have access to this floor?”

“I do. I’m a field agent. Level 7.”

A slight frown creased Steve’s brows. “Can I see your card?”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t stifle a tiny smile. “You think I’m lying?”

“What I know is that I’ve never seen you before and you were nearly running away a minute ago,” he said sharply. “Card.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you pulled the plastic card out of your pocket and handed it to him. “I was in a hurry.”

Seeing the card, even though it didn’t seem fake, didn’t entirely dispel his doubts. A level 7 agent he had never even seen before? He found it quite suspicious. However, he had nothing against you, so he gave the card back.

“I’m sorry, agent Y/L/N,” Steve said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s okay,” you replied, pushing the call button. “You were just doing your job.”

Steve gave a small nod, but he didn’t move. He waited for the elevator and stepped in after you. Great, you thought with a small sigh. All you wanted was to be enclosed in a tiny space with the man you had avoided for a year. While you casually leaned against the wall to keep an eye on him without being too obvious, Steve stood in the middle of the floor with his hands on his belt. He stared at the door, but he stole glances at you.

The silence was heavy and awkward. You had never had an interest in making small talk, but being so close to him, you felt a desperate urge to say something.

“So, how does it feel to be back home?”

Steve turned to you and tried to pull off a smile. Calling this home was an exaggeration. Even after a year of living here (and by ‘here’, he meant the time and not the place), it was still hard to believe that this was his present now. There was no cure for his homesickness. Wherever he went, he carried all the loss and grief with him. His only option was to move on. If only it were so easy…

“I’m trying to get used to it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. It was so obvious he was just trying to be polite and said what people wanted to hear. One look into those mesmerizing, cerulean eyes told you he was holding back so many things. It made you wonder if he had anyone to talk about his feelings, or he wore the mask of Captain America around everyone. Or maybe, it wasn’t an act at all. Maybe you were just misreading him and he was truly doing okay. After all, you didn’t really know him.

You were so close and yet, a million miles away. Steve was your soulmate - you were supposed to know everything about him, be there for him when he needed someone, understand him without having either of you say anything. Instead, he was a stranger to you and you were a stranger to him. You had no idea whether he was fine or if he suffered daily. There was an insurmountable distance between you and him and even if you wanted to close it, you weren’t sure if it was possible.

The thought was overwhelming and you had to bite your lip to stop it from trembling, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. He furrowed his eyebrows, examining your features, but he couldn’t quite place your reaction.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you smiled. “I am,” you said shortly. Before the lift arrived and the doors opened, you added. “Don’t worry. You’ll find your place.”

***

Steve sat with his tray but instead of eating, he just blindly poked his lunch with the fork for the past few minutes. His mind was racing, thoughts still centered around the woman he had just met. There was something about her he could not quite place: something good or something bad or maybe a bit of both, something that drew him in. A strong pull and a push, as if he was spinning a magnet around. He couldn’t let go of the feeling, ominous and yet somehow so captivating at the same time.

“You seem distracted,” Nat stated while she took a seat next to him.

As she disrupted his messy thoughts, Steve snapped his head up and looked around, like he completely forgot he wasn’t alone in the noisy cafeteria. “I just… I met someone.” He quickly regretted his choice of words, seeing Nat’s arched eyebrow. “Not like that.”

“I’m less interested,” she joked. “But go on.”

“Agent Y/L/N.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, watching her friend in silence for a while, before she dug her fork into her food. “Of all the women I’ve suggested you ask out, you choose the one who is the likeliest to say no?”

“I don’t want to ask her out, Nat,” Steve said after a long, weary sigh, trying to ignore the sharp pang of disappointment deep in his stomach. “You know her?”

“Yeah. We were… We grew up together. So why are you so interested in her?”

“I just find it a little strange that I’ve never seen her around here before.”

“Well, it’s a huge building.”

“No—it’s not like I’ve just never talked to her. Before this morning, I’ve never even seen her.”

“Do you remember every face you have ever seen?”

“Yes. I do,” Steve replied sharply.

Nat fell silent. Girls raised in the Black Widow program have always been secretive and mysterious: a lifetime would not be enough to truly get to know them if they didn’t want to be known to. But they knew each other; they were sisters, after all. If they were in another situation, Nat would have said that Steve was only overreacting, but taking the circumstances into consideration, she knew you were hiding something.

“Aren’t you being a little paranoid, Rogers?”

A heavy weight fell on Steve’s shoulders. For a second, he could have sworn Natasha was going to agree with him and say it was indeed suspicious, but he was wrong. It made him feel alone.

“Yeah. Maybe I am,” he said, but he thought otherwise.

After lunch, his way led straight back to his office. Steve put all of his paperwork aside to check your files: his status allowed him to see the records of most agents below or at the same level as his. He wasn’t sure what he would find that would explain the way he felt when he clicked on the folder with your name, but he was eager to find out. However, when he opened your files, he found almost everything encrypted. Education, previous employment, mission qualifications and reports: he didn’t have access to anything except some basic information. If he didn’t feel suspicious enough before, he definitely did now.

***

Later that evening, Nat arrived at your shared apartment to find you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in one hand and with a book propped up on your knees. She didn’t hesitate or waste any time with unnecessary small talk for long before she got straight to the point.

“Steve told me something very interesting today,” she said slowly, sitting across you on the armchair, carefully examining your face.

While you didn’t look up from the book, you felt your blood running cold, and could only hope she didn’t notice the tiny flinch of your lips. “And what was that?”

“He said that he’s never seen you before.”

“Oh, that.” A small wave of relief washed over you. Closing the book, you put it down on the coffee table and took a sip of your sweet red wine. “I don’t know why he’s so worked up about it. There are a lot of people working for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

For long, seemingly never-ending seconds, Natasha stared you without saying a single word. You clenched your jaw. Of all the people, why did Steve have to talk to Nat about you?

“Why are you hiding from him?”

“I’m not hiding from him,” you said with a small laugh, still denying. “Why would I hide from him?”

“That’s what I really would like to know.”

You had known Nat long enough to realize that there was no point in lying any longer. Steve put a bee in her bonnet and she was way too curious to give up on it so easily. Of course, you could’ve tried and lied to her, or admit it was something you didn’t want to talk about, but you considered that maybe telling the truth was your best option. She may even be able to help you to calm down Steve about his suspicions. The two of you has been through a lot together and you trusted her more than anyone else.

“Promise me you won’t tell this to anyone.”

“Okay,” she shrugged.

“I’m being very serious. You can’t tell anyone. Especially not him.”

She leaned forward, eyes softening. “I’d never betray you. Whatever it is, you can trust me with it.”

With the tiniest smile, you relaxed back against the cushions and took a deep breath. You had kept this secret to yourself for so long it seemed difficult to say it out loud.

“Steve… he’s my soulmate.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped. She was prepared to hear anything—did you maybe work against him in the past, or perhaps even now, but what she heard was even more unexpected. “But… you said your soulmate died…”

“Because I thought he died. I really did. But when they found him I realized it was him all along.”

She leaned against the backrest without a word, thinking. Now that the truth was out, you felt that familiar feeling: fear, just like when all those years ago you didn’t have a choice but to tell her you had a soulmate. Those were more difficult times. You tried to show Nat you trusted her, but deep down, you were scared to death she would tell someone sooner or later. It was the same feeling all over again. Even though you knew she would never betray you, just like she said, the well-known feeling washed over you.

“Natalia, please, don’t tell him.”

Still dazed, she shook herself. “Why wouldn’t you want him to know?”

“Because he’s… we’re too different.”

“You are literally soulmates.”

Drinking the rest of your wine, you pulled a blanket off the backrest and around your body like a shield. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“That means everything! Y/N, if I had a soulmate, I’d do everything to be with them.”

“Would you really?” You asked sharply. When you spoke again, your voice was quieter, quivering slightly. “With our past… After everything I’ve done, I can’t see myself with him. And I’m sure he couldn’t see me with himself either.”

Nat hesitated. She wanted to tell you that Steve wasn’t that shallow and that he would listen to you before judging, but she understood how you felt. In the Red Room, they taught you that there was no reason to trust anyone, ever. Sometimes she wondered if you had your doubts in her, too.

The real reason of your concerns was your lack of self-confidence and the trust you had lost in yourself. Natasha knew it all too well.

“We deserve happiness too.”

“I’m happy,” you said with teary eyes, forcing a smile. “I am.”

“Y/N,” she breathed out. “Please don’t throw this away.”

“I’ve already decided, Nat.” Though your eyes were still glistening, your voice no longer sounded weak. “I won’t tell him. Promise me you won’t, either.”

“You can’t keep it a secret forever.”

“Just promise me.”

Nat sighed. “He won’t learn it from me. I promise. But Y/N… think this through.”

“I already did. I had decades to think this through,” you said, standing up from the couch. “I know he’s your friend. But—”

“You’re the first.”

You gave her an honest smile. You had a million reasons why to trust her and none not to. While you had your doubts, you believed she wouldn’t tell him anything, but it didn’t change anything. She was right; you couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Sooner or later, Steve would learn the truth, and you had a feeling that day wasn’t too far away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your responses have been amazing so far and I’m really so thankful. ❤️ While I’m mostly following MCU canon for now, this will slowly change as we go with the story. I hope you will like what I’ve planned out but let me know what you think! Share your thoughts and theories! Talk to me! I’m here and ready to answer. You can also find me on tumblr as @marvelcapsicle.

“Hey. Are you okay?” 

Steve let out a silent gasp as Sam shook him out of his thoughts. He looked at his beer bottle, the label almost entirely scratched off, before he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“You sure? Because you look like you’re expecting one of the walls to fall down on us,” Sam said, pointing out that Steve has been looking around the room as if it was the first time he had set foot in a pub.

“Force of habit,” Steve replied after a breathy laugh. “Next round’s on me.”

It’s been nearly an hour since Sam asked him the question he had tried to find the answer to ever since he woke up in this unfamiliar world:  _what makes you happy?_  Steve shamelessly told the truth, because up until today he didn’t even realize there was nothing left that truly made his heart smile; not anymore. 

In response, Sam suggested they should go out and get some beers. Even though he hesitated at first, Steve accepted the invitation. He liked Sam. He understood him in a way only a soldier could. He didn’t pity him or feed him with lies and cliches, and it seemed like he always knew when he needed to talk about his issues and when he just wanted to keep his mind off of everything.

While he waited at the bar that wasn’t so crowded yet in the late afternoon hours, he felt a tap on his shoulder that made him turn around. 

“Excuse me,” a young woman with sparkling eyes and a bright grin said. She pointed at two of her friends who stood behind her, giggling. “Would you mind taking a picture with us?”

Steve glanced at Sam who snorted into his glass, before he looked back at the women with a polite smile. “Sure.”

He took a picture with each of them before he ordered drinks for him and Sam, but the girl who asked for the selfies still stood next to him.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I just met Captain America,” she beamed, her voice more high-pitched than before. “In my favourite bar! Do you come here often?”

“No, not really,” Steve replied, a little nervous. It had happened before, but he couldn’t quite get used to the attention he received. Sometimes he still felt like that skinny kid women never looked at twice. 

“Well, in that case…” she started, pulling a pen out of her bag and scribbling her number down. “If you want to reach me.”

“Thank you.” Steve smiled as he took the small napkin, picked up the drinks and hurried back to their booth.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t believe this. You don’t even have to do anything to get a girl’s number.”

Steve bowed his head with a quiet laugh before he drank from his beer. Sam watched as he fiddled with the napkin, crumpled it in his hand and then stuffed it into the pocket of his dark jacket.

“You’re not gonna call her.”

“No, I am not.”

Sam studied his face. “Why not? Is there someone else you like?” Then, seeing as the tips of his ears turned pink, he added, “Oh, there is.”

“It’s complicated.”

Steve thought a lot about the woman he met at the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters about a week ago, but quickly gave up on trying to find more information about her. He tried to ask Nat about her one more time, but she assured him once again that he had nothing to worry about. Steve wasn’t sure why did it feel so suspicious. His only suspicion against her was that he had never seen her before at the Triskelion, nor had he seen her anywhere else, but he had to admit it wasn’t enough to prove anything. He didn’t even know what he was trying to prove, but something wasn’t right. He felt like he was missing a piece of a puzzle. 

Either way, he couldn’t forget the short minute he had spent with her in the elevator. Since that day, he had bumped into her nearly every day, but never talked to her, no matter how much he wanted to. The more time passed, the more he convinced himself he was really just being paranoid. 

“Dating is complicated,” Steve went on. “Even if I forget about S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers for a second, women are so forward these days. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I just… I never know what they want,” he said, a little embarrassed with himself.  “Do they really want to get to know me or just throw themselves at Captain America?” 

“Can’t say either of those would be bad,” Sam said, only half-jokingly. “Seriously, I don’t think you can ever know it for sure unless you try it. Maybe except if you have a soulmate.”

Involuntarily, Steve shifted in his seat.

Sam leaned closer over the table. “Did I just hit the nail on the head? You have a soulmate?”

Steve fell silent. Everyone who ever knew he had a soulmate has been dead for decades. The last person he had talked to about it was Bucky. He didn’t try to deny that it would feel good to finally discuss it with someone, and he had no doubt Sam would be the perfect person for this. He had a good feeling about him, despite only knowing him for a short period. “I do.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, his smile turning into a confused frown. “But… how’s that with you? Have you had a soulmate since you woke up here or…?”

“I have had one for as long as I can remember.”

“How’s that possible?”

“I wish I knew,” Steve forced a smile, trying to mask the fact that that very same question tortured him every night. He always ended up with the same conclusion: to be still alive, his soulmate would have been injected with some kind of serum as well. But while Steve was buried in ice and it protected him from ageing, what had kept his soulmate young?

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

Steve stared off into the distance. “Before… everything, I used to say every year ‘Maybe this year I’ll find my soulmate’. Then I woke up, and I said the same. Maybe now,” he paused, shaking his head. “I stopped telling myself that. It’s been too long.”

Sam sipped his drink, thinking. “I’ve met a few people with soulmates. What I’ve learned from their stories is that it’s never easy. How could it be? And man, you can admit you are already a special case,” he said, making Steve smile. “Don’t give up. But don’t stress too much about this either. It will happen.”

Steve let out a long breath, feeling somewhat relieved. “Thanks, Sam.”

He nodded. “And you shouldn’t shut yourself off from all the fun until then. You can still date. Fall in love, even. You’ll miss out a lot if you just keep worrying.”

Even if Sam was right, Steve couldn’t see a bright side to any of it. How could he not worry all the time when he has been feeling another person’s pain since he was a kid? 

“So you do like someone,” Sam went on.

“Yeah. She is complicated,”  Steve felt strange to say something like this considering he barely even knew her, and yet, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. “I think… I just feel like she is keeping a lot of secrets.”

“Does she work with you?”

“Yes. Well, not specifically with me, but she’s working for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Sam laughed. “Then I’d be surprised if you said she had no secrets at all.” He paused, watching Steve who smiled, but he could still see the concern in his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’ll work out. It always does. In the meantime, why don’t you give me that cute brunette’s number?”

***

It has been a long day. Time moved with the slowest pace while you buried yourself in the boring paperwork, making you groan every time you checked the clock on the wall. Even though being in the field was much more dangerous, in many cases, you still preferred to go out rather than stay in the office all day long. But work wasn’t the only thing that made you feel exhausted. 

Stepping into the elevator after you finally finished, you leaned your head against the wall and let out a long breath. There was a time when you thought hiding from Steve was tiring, but being near him while you kept secrets from him was actually so much more worse. When you were younger, you used to daydream about him a lot, despite not even knowing what he looked like or what he was like. You imagined how it would feel to be with the one person who was supposed to love you unconditionally; something you never had a chance to experience before. On many occasions, it gave you hope and strength to get through the worst days. Now, after all those painful years, your dreams were at an arm’s reach, and yet you did nothing to grab hold of them.

The doors opened and you weren’t surprised to see Steve, walking in. It seemed lately you kept stumbling into each other all the time. He gave you a small nod and stood in the opposite corner of the tiny space, looking through the glass walls of the elevator. The sinking sun painted the sky golden and pink, but dark clouds were gathering in the far distance.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Steve broke the heavy silence.

Taken aback, you needed a few seconds to process what you just heard. Was he really trying to make small talk with you? After he confronted you only a couple weeks ago, the mere idea seemed hilarious. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat, a grin lingering on your lips. “Nothing. Yeah, I think they said there’s gonna be a storm tonight.”

The doors of the elevator opened and Steve nodded, still confused as what was so funny about what he had said. He definitely didn’t mean to make a fool of himself but now he felt like he just did, and he wished he didn’t say anything while he walked through the garage. His motorbike stood next to yours and you exchanged a small smile while you both stopped close to your own vehicles. For a few, sweet seconds, you had successfully forgotten about all the secrecy and just enjoyed this sudden change in his behaviour. He didn’t seem as distant as before and he gave you none of those suspicious glances.

Steve fiddled with the helmet that he wouldn’t use anyway while he watched you from the corner of his eye. Since his conversation with Sam, he has been thinking a lot, and after he buried his doubts somewhere deep, only a warm, tempting feeling remained. A year had passed since he came out of the ice, but he hadn’t thought about seeing someone. At least not until Nat started pestering him, but even then, the simple idea seemed like something he couldn’t reach. They called him the man out of time and that was exactly how he felt; out of this time, out of this world. How could he ever find someone who would stop making him feel like he didn’t belong here at all? Someone who could help him move on? He felt like he could never do it alone. There was his soulmate, of course, but the more time passed, the more he lost his hope of ever finding them. 

As impossible as dating appeared to be for him, Steve still felt an immense urge to get closer to you. The captivating fire in your eyes and the honest, kind smile he only had a chance to see for the first time tonight made it quite hard for him to look away. He struggled with himself, wondering whether he should take a step forward or stay away from you.

His eyes were still on you while you sat up on your bike and revved the engine, but after multiple attempts, it still wouldn’t start. Sighing, you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Someone’s taking an Uber tonight.”

Steve hesitated while you tapped on the screen. Here was a chance he didn’t even realize he has been waiting for until it was right in front of his eyes. “Or I can give you a ride home. If you… if you want to.”

The thought made your heart flutter in your chest and you knew you should say no, but you blurted out the words before sense could prevail. “Thank you.”

You sat astride the leather seat behind Steve and wrapped your arms around his small waist. He initially tensed under your touch but you felt him relax into it as you continued on your way. Taking a chance, you pressed your head against the back of his neck, and decided to stay after he showed no sign of any discomfort. 

“Comfortable?” Steve asked, smiling, looking back over his shoulder. He felt you nod against his neck and involuntarily, his grin grew. 

He smelled so fresh and clean, free of anything too strong or spicy and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to wake up and breathe in his scent first thing in the morning. You were glad the wind helped to cool you down, because you felt as if your entire skin was on fire. You weren’t sure when was the last time you experienced something like this, if you ever did. He felt solid and strong and so comfortable, you knew it would be so easy to fall asleep at his side.

Your little ride ended sooner than you would have liked it to. If it was up to you, you would have wanted to stay with your arms around him all night.

“Thank you,” you said after you slipped off the bike.

“Sure,” he replied with a gentle smile that made your heart melt. 

He walked you to the door and you couldn’t not notice he was being nervous. He bounced on the balls of his feet and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans after he brushed his hair out of his forehead. It was endearing and you had to bite your lip and turn away to hold back your laughter. 

“Looks like Nat is home,” you said, looking up at the building and seeing that the lights of the living room were on.

Steve blinked, frowning. “You live with Natasha?”

The sky rumbled in the distance and the wind increased, nearly sweeping you off your feet, so you pulled your jacket closer around your body. “Yeah. You didn’t know?”

He shook his head as no. “For how long?”

“A couple years,” you replied. “Since we started working for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Is this how you met?”

“Yes,” you lied without thinking it through. Even though you had mastered the art of lying a very long time ago; and what you just told Steve was insignificant anyway, you hated keeping secrets from him. It shouldn’t be like this, and you wished you could share everything with him. 

As the small lie left your lips, you realized something changed in Steve’s demeanour. His gentle, almost shy smile disappeared, along with his nervous attitude. He just stood straight with a light furrow over his brows.

“I should go. Before it starts raining.”

“Sure,” you said, deciding not to ask what was bothering him. He didn’t trust you, not at all, and while he had every reason to be mistrustful, it still hurt too much to bare any second longer. “Thanks again.”

Steve hopped up on his motorbike and left, but despite the gathering storm, he didn’t go back to his apartment right away. He circled around the city until the rain began to pour from the sky, thinking. He didn’t understand why you would lie about how long you had known Natasha? Or perhaps it was Natasha who lied? He remembered when he had asked Nat about you, she acted quite strange as well. Either way, one of you wasn’t being honest, and the reason behind it interested him more than the truth itself.

***

A few days went by without you seeing Steve. Perhaps because you had been seeing him so often lately, his sudden disappearance made you think he was avoiding you. He could be on a mission, but your instinct said otherwise. You tried to wave these thoughts away. After all, so far you had only met by accident, randomly stumbling into each other.  

It was still early in the morning when you arrived back from your morning run and spent an eternity in the bathroom. After so many years of constant burning cold, you got used to hot, long showers. Even though you did not have these problems anymore, somehow it still felt comforting. By the time you finished and checked your phone, Fury’s message welcomed you. 

A half an hour later, you had already arrived at the headquarters. The halls of the Triskelion were filled with people in the busy mornings hours, but Fury’s level was deserted. Empty, except for one man.

Steve sat on the gray couch in front of the office, wearing his dark suit. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, but he snapped his head up at the sound of your footsteps.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he stood up to greet you when you reached near him. He seemed so cold again; no smiles or gentle glances.

“Hey,” you said simply, watching the door with a frown. “You came to see Fury?”

“I did. He left me a message an hour ago.”

Lips parting, your quiet gasp quickly turned into a weary sigh. “Pizdec.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” 

The words barely left your lips when the door opened and Fury invited both of you in. While he led you into the office, you avoided both men’s eyes. Before he even started to talk, you knew Fury had a mission for you and Steve and you had no chance to convince him to let you to do it alone. While he sat behind his desk, filling you on the details, you only half-listened. A part of your attention, a much bigger part of it was somewhere far away, already dreading the thought of going with Steve and spending hours, maybe days with him together.

“Did either of you listen to a word I said?” Fury asked sharply, making you sit straighter. You exchanged a quick glance with Steve who sat on your left, and the look on his face told you his mind was wandering somewhere else too. 

“Why can’t I go by myself? I always go alone.”

“I am aware playing in a team has been difficult for you, but sometimes we can’t avoid these situations. We’ve talked about this before,” he said, referring to your long conversation from about a year ago. “We do need one of our best spies and our best soldier for this job.”

“What about Nat? They have worked together before. Or Sharon?”

Steve didn’t say a word, but he frowned. He found it strange you tried so hard to find someone else for this mission. 

“Agent Romanoff and agent 13 both have their own missions and you’re perfectly suitable for it.”

Staring off into the distance, you swallowed hard, knowing there was no way to talk him out of this. “What are we looking for exactly?”

“We don’t know that.”

“Where is it?”

“We don’t know that either.”

You sighed. “Thanks. I’m sure we’ll find it.”

Steve leaned forward. “How are we supposed to do anything if we don’t even know what kind of a weapon we’re looking for?”

“If you were so kind and listened when I was telling you the details a minute ago, this wouldn’t be a question now,” Fury said. “There have been reports of mysterious deaths over the past weeks. Fellows dropping dead, without a trace of any violence. They all looked like rotting mummies.” 

“Bio-weapon?” You asked.

“Most likely. Corpses have been found around Ukraine, Austria, France and Spain. All traces led back to this man,” he said, slipping a folder closer to you. Steve glanced at you, but since you didn’t reach for it, he took it and opened the dossier. 

“As far as we know, he’ll be staying in Berlin this weekend. Your job is to pay him a visit. Find the weapon and the man who made it.”

“Doesn’t sound like anything I couldn’t handle alone.”

Fury gave a long sigh that made you think he’d rather throw himself out of the window than deal with you any second longer. “We don’t know what we’re up against. They’ve been very secretive and only let to slip enough information that wouldn’t make them too suspicious. It’s a little strange how easy it looks, don’t you think, agent?”

Grudgingly, you gave a nod.

“I hope you have something nice to wear, because you’re going to a party.”

“You just keep giving me the best news today.”

Fury ignored your comment. “Your job is to do anything to get information out of this man. Captain, hopefully you’re only there as a backup. And as our invitation to the party.”

“So what am I? His plus one?” 

“His fiancée.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes. It was like the worst joke and you had the sudden urge to laugh.

“Why does she need to play my fiancée?” Steve asked. “Wouldn’t it be enough to say she’s my friend or something?”

“We need them to think we’re there without any ulterior motive,” you replied without looking at him. “Makes us look less sketchy.”

“Obviously they will suspect you had something else to do there anyway, but I’m sure we can trust in your skills to eliminate those doubts,” Fury nodded at you. “Cap, I know you haven’t worked with agent Y/L/N before, but she’s highly trained in this area. I expect you to follow her instructions.” 

Steve wanted to stay quiet, listen to whatever else he had to stay and leave.  He really, truly wanted to, but the words left his lips before he could stop them. “It isn’t that easy when you know absolutely nothing about your partner.”

Hearing his sharp tone made your blood run as cold as ice, and you felt like you couldn’t move. Fury gave you a small glance.

“Do you have any other questions?”

Steve watched as you lightly shook your head and left the office in a hurry, shutting the door with a loud bang. He was silent, waiting for Fury to speak.

“Is something bothering you, Cap?”

“Yeah. Something is,” he said, annoyed. “Why can’t I see her files?”

“It’s confidential.”

“I’m going to a possibly very dangerous mission with her, alone. I think I have the right to know who am I risking my life for if it’s necessary.” 

“You know everything you need to know for the mission,” Fury said, but seeing Steve’s features didn’t change at all, he went on. “Agent Y/L/N is with us under special circumstances. She does need S.H.I.E.L.D.’s full protection and that’s what we’re giving her. If information about her gets out, she could be in danger.”

“Does she need protection from us too?”

“Yes. She does.”

Steve looked away, shaking his head. What Fury said sounded serious and while one part of him understood it, he couldn’t imagine going on a mission with someone he didn’t trust at all. 

Slowly, Fury stood up. “I’m not asking you to be best friends, but like it or not, you’re partnered on this one. I can assure you, you have no reason to mistrust her”

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t take your word for it,” Steve said, before he stood up and left the office. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry in advance if this chapter feels unfinished, but originally, it was a long one. I decided to cut it in half because there’s already a lot happening in this chapter and a lot will in the next one too. Thank you for leaving amazing comments, you’re the best. ❤️

**1973, Moscow  
**

The thick, crimson carpet swallowed the sound of your footsteps as you walked down the long corridor with Natalia’s handler by your side. What he wanted with you and where he was taking you exactly was a mystery. He didn’t tell you himself and you had learned that asking one too many questions never led to anything good. 

“Behave,” Petrovitch said before he knocked on the door at the end of the dimly lit hall. The building was eerily silent; it was late. Whatever they wanted, it obviously couldn’t wait until the morning.

“I always do, don’t I?”

He rolled his eyes and walked into the room, nodding at you to follow him. The three men in the room suddenly fell silent, staring at you. Karpov sat behind his desk, his features inscrutable as always. Lukin stood in the middle of the room, hands behind his back, strict and a little confused. Both of them had a share in making your life a living hell, but neither of them made your stomach clench as much as the man who sat on the couch in the corner. The sight of the knee-length white coat sent an uncomfortable shiver up your spine. 

“This isn’t Miss Romanova,” Lukin said, looking questioningly at Karpov. “Vasily, I thought we agreed we should send our best assassin for this mission. We can’t afford to make any more mistakes.”

“Yes,” Karpov started calmly. The way he spoke, prim and cold, was somehow always more frightening than if he was shouting. “Unfortunately, Natalia and our asset have been involved in the past.”

“Involved?” 

Long, heavy silence filled the room while the men exchanged quick glances, but Karpov’s eyes soon found their way back to you. It was obvious that whatever he talked about, he wasn’t sure you should know it as well. You stood rigid at his gaze; without showing any reaction. 

He slowly stood up from his desk, walking closer to you. “Romantically speaking.”

Lukin let out a sceptical laugh, but his features quickly turned angry. “How could you even let that happen?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Aleksander. Miss Y/L/N is perfectly capable to handle the situation. And hopefully, unlike Natalia, she knows love is for children.”

Swallowing hard, you dug your nails into the heels of your palms as hard as you could without letting them to see anything through you. The biting cold numbed your skin and blunted the pain. “I do.”

Karpov smiled and returned to his table. “Our little problem with Natalia and the sleeper agent has been solved,” he said, nodding at the Red Room scientist who still sat silently under the warm light of a small lamp. “But we can’t take the risk and send her to find him after what happened.”

“Yes. Of course,” Lukin said, afraid to even think of what would happen if two of the most dangerous assassins disappeared together. “Sit down, Y/L/N”.

“One of our sleeper agents were sent to eliminate a senator in the United States,” Karpov started to fill you on the details. “As always, everything went perfect. He never disappointed us before. But something went wrong and he didn’t come back to us. It’s been six months now. We’ve been able to track some of his movements down, but he always slips through our fingers. Last place we saw him was in Chicago, but since the last three weeks, we seem to have lost him. He could be anywhere. You, Miss Y/L/N, are going to find him and bring him back to where he belongs.”

While your face was blank, you felt your heart thundering in your chest; a million questions flashing through your brain. Who were they talking about and why had Nat never told you she had had a romance with someone?

“Which one of the sleepers are we talking about?”

“The Winter Soldier.”

You felt your blood run as cold as ice at the mention of the name, and it seemed as Karpov noticed your reaction, too.

“Is something wrong?”

“I… I’ve never defeated him before when we were sparring. Why don’t you send another sleeper agent after him?”

“I did. They either weren’t able to track him down or they lost him. Besides, he is not always stable. That’s why you go. Here,” he said, pushing a red notebook across the table. “A little help:”

With weak fingers, you opened the little book. Even in the possession of the activation codes, you were deadly scared of getting anywhere near him. He used to teach you; he knew every one of your movements before you even made them.

“Failure is not acceptable,” Karpov said, and you knew the conversation was over.

**1973, Brooklyn**

Fresh air wafted into the dusty room through the window which was left ajar. The old, dark, torn curtains were pulled down, protecting the man who was inside from curious eyes. He sat in the middle of the empty flat, atop an ancient-looking and dirty mattress, surrounded by newspapers. This is how he spent his days: reading old news, trying to trace back his memories. Sometimes he could remember faces, smells, smiling lips and the sound of laughter. Other times all he could recall was pain, darkness and the cold.  

Today had been a good day. He remembered fiery locks and a cheeky smile that made his heart fill with warmth. He remembered a blue uniform and the sound of a pencil scratching against paper. 

Frowning, he turned around. He hadn’t heard anything; it was more like a bad feeling. He froze and felt as if his tormented soul had left his body at the sight of the woman in the room. She wore a dark, long coat, her hands hidden in the pockets. There wasn’t anyone who could sneak up on him, not unless she was sent from the Red Room. Slowly, he stood up.

“They didn’t send Natalia.” 

His words surprised you. Except for the times he taught you and the other girls, you had never heard him speak in English. “How do you remember her?”

“I don’t know. I can’t even remember my own name,” he said. His words cut deep, even though you tried not showing it. “I’m not going back there.”

“One way or another, you will. Are you sure you want to choose the hard way?”

“Is there any other kind?” He asked after a short, weak laugh. He didn’t seem upset, but you tightened your grip around your knife when he started come closer. “Do you want to do this all your life? Be their weapon? Let them keep fucking with your head?”

“They’re not—you don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, but he could hear the confusion in your voice. “You should not question them.”

“You’re only loyal because they made you believe that’s the right thing.”

“It is the right thing, soldier,” you said as firm as you could. “You’re coming back with me. Like it or not.”

The soldier let out a long, weary sigh. The woman in front of him was as much of a victim as he was. He didn’t like the idea of getting into a fight with her, but he would do anything to get his so-called freedom back. Even if this meant he had to hide in abandoned houses for the rest of his life. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He knew, just as you did, that you had no chance against him in a fair fight. You were both enhanced, but in different ways, and your strength wasn’t even close to his. 

“Zhelaniye,” you said indifferently. In the past few months, while you chased him, you had more than enough time to memorize the words. 

His eyes fell closed immediately, shaking his head. “Don’t do this.”

“Rzhavyy.”

He clenched the wrist of his metal arm, almost instinctively. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Semnadtsat.” 

The word barely left your lips when the Winter Soldier rushed towards you, shouting, so quickly that you didn’t even have the time to react. He slammed you into the nearest wall to stop you, but not enough to seriously hurt you. He recognized you won’t stop and while he was still conscious, he slowly started to lose the last bits of himself. Tiny bits he tried to piece together in the last few months were fading away, screaming from somewhere deep within to save what he still could. 

He started towards the door but you were quick, lifting yourself up from the ground just enough to kick his legs out from under him. Though he didn’t fall, he stumbled, and that was enough to win you some time to stand up and kneel him into the stomach while you said the next word. 

“Rassvet.”

He wrapped his metal fingers around your wrist and threw you across the room. Your ribs ached and for a moment your vision blurred from the blunt pain in your head, but you saw him ripping the front door open. 

“Pech,” you said after you jumped up from the ground, running towards him across the room. As the words affected his brain and something else started to take control over him, his movements slowed down. It looked like he wasn’t so sure anymore; like he didn’t know if he should stop or if he should run, causing him to walk like he wasn’t entirely sober. 

He turned around in the hall of the building when you reached him and it was only your speed that saved you from getting hit in the head with his metal arm. Leaning away from his fist, you wrapped your leg around his and shoved him onto his back. 

“Devyat,” you panted, but he caught your ankle and tossed you through the corridor like you weighed nothing. The door he threw you at couldn’t stop your body; it broke through and you found yourself in a strangers’ home. You heard the people screaming while you tried to lift yourself up, feeling something warm and wet trickling down your temple. 

When you opened your eyes to look around, the soldier was seemingly gone, but all it took you was to leave the room to see him again. He was walking down the stairs, not running away, like he had all the time in the world. 

“Dobroserdechnyy,” you breathed out, following him. He stumbled, gripping the railing a little harder. 

“Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu.”

He turned on his heels, his shout echoing in the stairwell. His fist hit the wall instead of your head, leaving a deep hole in its place. You took the short time while he freed his hand and got behind him, climbed up his back with your legs around his neck, using your body weight to throw him down to the ground. He pulled you with him and you both fell down the staircase, rolling down until the wall stopped you. Trapped under him with his back against your chest, you wrapped your arm around his neck and your leg around his to keep him as steady as you could

“Odin,” you groaned through your fighting while his weight made it harder to breathe. “Gruzovoy vagon.”

As you said the last word, he stopped fighting in your grip. Trying to catch your breath, you waited a few seconds until you let him go and you both stood up. He stood straight, but you needed to lean against the wall for some support. His face was inexpressive, his eyes vacant.

“Soldat?” you asked, no longer talking in english with him. 

“Ya gotov otvechat.”

You released a long, relieved breath. It was time to go back home. 

Your relief didn’t last for too long though. On the way back to Moscow, you questioned your self, the K.G.B. and everything you had ever done in the past more times than you had ever done before. The soldier was silent and didn’t say a word unless you asked him. And oh, you did ask him. You wanted to know the secrets of the K.G.B., everything you had suspected, trying to put together those blunt memories you had. Unfortunately, his answers to your most important questions was radio silence and a dark stare.

You thought about Natalia. It crossed your mind Karpov wasn’t telling the truth or he had just tried to mislead you on purpose, but when the soldier had mentioned her name you knew he wasn’t lying. Why did Nat, of all people, have to keep secrets from you? She had never even hinted she had something between her and the Winter Soldier. And now, knowing that they most likely took away her memories, you couldn’t ask her anymore. 

**1973, Moscow**

Only Karpov waited for you upon your return, but there were five handlers in his richly decorated office while the Winter Soldier stood next to you. Their presence wasn’t necessary: the sleeper agent showed no resistance since you had said the activation code out loud. 

Karpov had the smallest smile at the corner of his lips. He looked proud. “Very good job, Y/N. Where did you find him?”

“In Brooklyn.”

You didn’t miss the way his features tightened. “Did he say anything?”

“No.”

He studied your face, silent. He didn’t have the time nor the patience to try and figure out if you were lying or not. “Question him and wipe him,” he said to the soldier’s handler, opening a notebook and scribbling something down. “We’re not sending him to America again.”

“Why not?”

You knew it was a mistake to ask the moment the words fell from your lips, but it was too late to take them back. Swallowing, you stood under Karpov’s icy gaze, while three of the handlers escorted the sleeper agent out without him giving them any trouble. He seemed to have quietly accepted what was coming to him. 

“There are always… casualties,” Karpov said quietly as he stood from his table. “Sacrifices we have to make to bring glory to the Soviet Union. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Y/L/N?”

It should have been so easy to lie, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. Your hesitation gave the last push to Karpov, who took his eyes off of you and looked at the handlers behind you. “Take care of her, too.”

**2013, Berlin**

There was simply no way this weekend was going to turn out to your benefit. Even if everything went right and you could finish the job without getting hurt, there was still a chance Steve would somehow learn the truth. The more time you spent with him, the more information he would learn about you that would definitely help him piece everything together.

Nat had warned you. She had told you to tell him everything before he found out about it and things got ugly, but you still prolonged it as long as you could. If you had doubts before, Steve’s behaviour definitely strengthened your decision. He had been silent on the quinjet; he didn’t ask or say anything that wasn’t strictly about the job. He was cold and distant and while you knew you had brought this onto yourself, it still made your heart ache. 

When you had almost arrived at the entrance of the hotel, you held your arm out. “Take my hand.”

Steve glanced at you and sighed heavily. He didn’t even try to hide how uncomfortable he felt, but laced his fingers with yours anyway. His grip felt good, strong and gentle at the same time and you wished you could experience this under different circumstances. 

Checking into the room went surprisingly quick. You flashed your brightest grin at the receptionist and kissed Steve’s cheek while she welcomed you and gave you the key of the honeymoon suite. Steve, however, wasn’t so thrilled. His smile was forced, his reactions slow. When you stepped into the elevator and the door closed, you let his hand go and turned to him.

“Okay, let’s get something straight. You are my fiancé. You have to act like it when we’re in public.”

Steve clenched his jaw. He admitted he wasn’t the greatest liar and even if he was, he simply didn’t find it appropriate to put his hands on a strange woman. It only added to his distress that he didn’t trust you at all. 

The booked room wasn’t too big but cozy with warm colours, chilled champagne, towels folded into swans and rose petals all over the bed. The sight made you let out a long breath. “Thanks, Fury.”

Steve followed you into the suite with both of your bags in his hands: his is a small one, yours a lot bigger and heavier. He couldn’t understand why you had packed so much for just one night. 

You brushed the petals off the bed and threw yourself down on the soft mattress with a little groan. It was so soft that you felt like you were lying on a heap of marshmallows, but somehow you also found it amazingly comfortable. It was already getting late and if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have moved from your current position. But while you laid on the bed, you heard Steve shuffling around the room. Opening your eyes but not lifting your head, you saw him collect the red petals and neatly folded towels you had scattered around the floor.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “We only have to go to that party tomorrow. Why don’t you relax a bit?”

He went to the dustbin, but didn’t say anything.

“Are you going to ignore me all weekend, Cap?”

“I’m not ignoring you,” he said, annoyed, avoiding to look at you while he washed his hands.

“Oh, really? Because this is the first time you have said anything to me in hours.”

Steve turned the tap off and looked into the mirror, grasping the edge of the sink. There was a short period when he let go of his doubts and tried to enjoy the fact that you stirred something inside him; something he had not felt for so long that he wasn’t even sure he was still able to. But your little lies woke his suspicions once again and he wasn’t sure it was possible to put them back to sleep.

“Nevermind,” you said, jumping out of the bed. “I’m going to take a shower.”

He left the bathroom to let you in, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed after your annoyed tone. He wished he could trust you, he really did. “Do you want me to order room service?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you said indifferently.

“What would you like?” Steve asked, though you had already slammed the door. 

“Surprise me,” you replied. “And don’t forget some vodka.”

After you discarded your clothes and left them on the cold floor, you stood under the shower and let the hot water melt some of the tension away. You felt angry at Steve, but deep down you knew the only person you were furious at was you. 

And yet, you couldn’t quite understand the reason behind his behaviour. He was nice and friendly when he gave you a ride home recently, but since then, he acted like you were some kind of a threat. Of course you had many secrets, one pretty significant, but he had no idea about any of them. 

An option crossed your mind, filling your eyes with tears. Would it be a good idea to tell him now that you were soulmates? Would it help to lift the weight off your shoulders, to make everything easier? Would it break the ice and destroy the wall that stood between you? These were all sweet dreams, only dreams, because you knew it would only make everything worse. Besides worrying about him finding out all your secrets, you were also concerned about telling him that you hid the truth from him for more than a year. During the very short time you had spent with him, you had noticed that if Steve hated something, it was lying. It made you feel even more like you were cutting the branch you were sitting on. There was no way out of this, and as so many times before, you wished again you didn’t have a soulmate. 

By the time you were done with your shower, Steve had already finished eating. He stared as you walked closer with light steps, your hair damp and you’re wearing just a fluffy white bathrobe. He shifted in his seat and nodded at the tray.

“I think the food has gone cold.”

Sighing, and somehow feeling extremely exhausted, you plopped down on the armchair across him and reached for the shot of vodka. Steve watched while you downed it without a blink of an eye, slamming the glass back at the table. He made a motion to stand up, but your voice pulled him back.

“What’s your problem with me?” The truth would hurt, you were aware, but you wanted to hear it. 

He sat back down. He could’ve chosen to lie and close the conversation quickly, but as Fury said, you were partners—whether he liked it or not. Besides, here was his chance to find out the truth he wanted so much.

“You lied to me.”

You arched your eyebrows, pulse kicking up a notch. He couldn’t know the truth, could he? “Excuse me?”

“Natasha told me you grew up with each other,” he said. “But you told me you’ve only known each other since you’ve been working for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

You swallowed. “That’s it? That’s why you’re acting like this?”

“No,” Steve said sharply. “I tried to look into your files but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even see who your parents were or where you studied or worked—everything was classified. Fury told me it’s for your protection but…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “How can I trust you if I know nothing about you?”

You huffed out an annoyed breath. His words angered you once more, and even though you kept your voice quiet as you spoke, your anger burned white and hot inside you. “Alright,” you started, leaning back in the armchair. “Let’s see. My father was a doctor. My mother was a prima ballerina. They died in a car accident when I was little. At least this is what I was made to remember.”

Steve furrowed his brows at your words, but before he could ask what did you mean, you continued. 

“After my parents’ death, I was taken to Krasnaya Kamnata. The Red Room. It was one of the training facilities of Department X. They created spies, assassins, super-soldiers… all kinds of weapons to help win wars for the Soviet Union. I didn’t get any formal education because I was trained and raised in the Red Room. For years, they made me believe I was a ballerina at the Bolshoi Theatre but while they did teach me to dance, what they really taught me was how to snap someone’s neck with the very same moves.” You paused for a second, looking into Steve’s eyes whose confusion slowly turned into something else. “They taught me to kill, lie, spy on people and seduce men since I was ten. They inserted fake memories into my brain so I wouldn’t even think of leaving and took away the ones that made me question them. I worked for the K.G.B. for… a very long time before S.H.I.E.L.D. basically saved me. My record is nowhere near to clear and by now I have done many things against both sides. What do you think would happen if all the classified information about me got out?”

Steve went even more speechless than he initially was. While he received answers to most of his questions, now he had a million more he wanted to ask but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate. He was curious, he was angry, he was ashamed. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to know, Captain?” You asked calmly with only a hint of cynicism in your tone, even though you wanted nothing more but scream and cry and leave the room. 

His lips parted, but no words left him. With a small nod, you stood up from the armchair and lay down on the bed that didn’t even feel so cozy anymore. Turning your back to Steve, you pulled the comforter up to your chin and tried to act like you were sleeping, but sleep didn’t come easily that night. 

Much later, when you felt the mattress dipping under his weight, you were still thinking about all the things you told him, regretting every word. He still didn’t know you were his soulmate, but now he knew what kind of a person you really were. You felt as if that last, tiny chance that you had kept somewhere deep in your heart was ripped out and crushed into pieces. But maybe that was for the best. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update, but I have busy weeks at work. Sadly I won't be able to update weekly for a while, but I'm not abandoning this story! I'm back with a long chapter though that I hope you will enjoy! Thank you for the lovely comments! ♡

Steve was alone in the hotel room all morning. When he woke up at the crack of dawn after only a few hours of restless sleep, he found the bed empty. He waited for more than an hour before he tried calling you several times, but you either didn’t pick it up or sent him directly to voicemail. Just as he started to seriously worry that maybe something happened to you, you returned to the suite in the middle of the afternoon, unharmed and looking carefree, and his concern turned into anger.

“Cap,” you said, walking in like nothing happened. 

“Where were you?”

“Out,” you shrugged out of your black leather jacket and tossed the sunglasses on the coffee table, before plopping down on the edge of the bed. “We had free time. Have you tried German street food? It’s amazing.”

Steve stared at you, dumbfounded. “We’re on a mission.”

“And they have spicy beer mustard.”

“Couldn’t you at least pick up the damn phone and let me know that you were still alive?” Steve wasn’t shouting, but he raised his voice. 

“Relax.”

“Please tell me how I should relax when you disappear hours before the mission without telling me a word! We’re partners. We need to trust each other.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Standing up, you crossed your arms over your chest. The look on your face told Steve he said something he shouldn’t have. “I thought that we were past that considering you refused to even try to trust me after speaking to me for barely five minutes!” 

“And I was right, wasn’t I? You were lying.”

“About something that was none of your business!”

“We’re working together so it is my business too,” Steve said. One part of him still felt ashamed about his behaviour and already regretted what he was about to say, but he couldn’t see why was it so bad that he wanted to get to know his partner better. “Why are you blaming me when you’re the one who can’t stop lying?”

His face was red, forehead creased with frustration. Silence filled the room and as he realized his words cut too deep, his features slowly softened. Steve glanced down with a sigh before he looked at you again, but he could read nothing off your face. 

A knock on the door made the both of you jump. Avoiding looking at him, you quickly walked to the door to open it, carefully at first, but it was only the housekeeper with towels on her arms. No wonder she looked uncomfortable; she probably heard the two of you shouting through the door. 

“Your husband asked for some fresh towels.”

“Fiancé,” you corrected her quietly. “I’m sorry if we were too loud. He’s a little jealous sometimes.”

The woman laughed. “Oh, you should hear me and my husband. Don’t worry about it. What is a marriage without a little shouting sometimes?”

You gave her a hearty laugh and took the neatly folded towels. “Danke shön.”

Steve stood in the middle of the room, shifting his weight from one leg to another while you dropped the towels on the bed. There wasn’t even a hint of the laugh he had heard only seconds ago, even though it sounded so honest. “Agent, I…”

“Don’t,” you quickly cut him off, seeing the pitiful look in his eyes. “Listen, I’m not angry at you and I really don’t need you to apologise only because you feel sorry for me. You’re right. I can’t stop lying. This is my job and sometimes I have to do whatever it takes just to survive. Sorry if it doesn’t meet your standards, but we have work to do. Let’s just get this over with and then we can forget about each other.”

Steve had a million more things to say, but your tone was so cold and peremptory that he couldn’t do anything but nod.

Sometime later when you stepped out of the bathroom in a robe, Steve was sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, only half-watching something on the TV. He followed you with his eyes while you took a seat by the small table, checking your reflection in the little makeup mirror. 

“Isn’t it too early to start getting ready?”

“No, it’s not,” you smiled and stood up again, grabbing the bag and dropping it on the bed. Steve leaned closer to get a better look after you opened it, curiously eyeing all the clothes, makeup products and wigs. 

“It’s your lucky day, Cap,” you said. “You can choose your fiancée’s look.”

“I didn’t know you were coming in disguise.”

“I’m a spy.”

Steve sat back and watched every one of your movements. He had always suspected you hid many things, but he didn’t think your entire life was one huge secret. At one point he even started to wonder if your name was real or you used a fake one. 

Despite his many doubts, Steve still felt guilty for the way he spoke to you. He had no reason to trust you, but you had no reason to share anything with him about your past and your personal life. Even though you tried to hide it, he could see how uncomfortable it made you to talk about it, and how could it not? Thinking about all that you had to go through in that place and that too from such a young age, made his blood boil. 

He went to take a shower while you were still working on your appearance, but when he stepped out of the bathroom, you were nearly done and ready to go. His breath hitched and he froze at the door at the sight. His pupils dilated as he watched you, standing in front of a full-length mirror in a deep red dress with the zipper down on its back. 

You caught his reflection in the mirror, but you didn’t turn around. “Could you help me?”

Steve ran his fingers through his damp hair and walked closer to you. He didn’t understand why every step felt like he would stumble over his own legs, as if he was drunk or got hit on the head hard. He felt somewhat insecure as he was wearing only a towel around his waist, regretting he didn’t dress up in the bathroom. His warm fingertips touched your back, sending a shiver up your spine. You were sure he could see the goosebumps prickling all over your skin and you wished you didn’t ask for his help. 

“How do I look?” You asked after he zipped the dress up and you turned around, trying not staring at his body. 

“Different,” was all Steve managed to say. He thought you were beautiful like this, just as you were with your natural hair and devoid of any makeup; so much that he was surprised he could even utter a word. 

“Just what every woman wants to hear.”

Steve bowed his head, shaking a little while you walked away. “I’m sorry. You look… you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He made a step forward, but stopped in his tracks with a frown while you put one leg up on the edge of the bed. He felt his cheeks heating up as you pulled the dress up and hid a knife in a black garter around your thigh. Feeling his eyes on you, you bit back a smile and looked up at him. Steve felt ashamed for staring and he immediately turned away.

“Are you coming to the party in a towel?” 

“Yeah, no, I’m… I’ll just go and change.”

He picked up his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom once again to put on his simple, two piece black suit. You finished the final touches on your makeup by the time he came back, tying his midnight blue tie. 

“We still have some time left,” he said while you slipped into a pair of black high heels. “So will you finally share your plan with me?”

With a sigh, you plopped down in one of the armchairs, while Steve took the other. In a situation like this, where you barely knew anything, you couldn’t work out a decent plan. And, truth be told, even if you could, you always preferred to improvise. 

“As Fury said, you’re here as a backup. Let’s hope it’ll stay that way,” you started. “You’re playing my fiancé, so as much as you hate it…”

“I’ve never said I hated it.”

“… you have to try to act like it.” You paused, and Steve fell silent too. You could tell he was nervous by the way he was fiddling with the end of his tie.

“About that. Shouldn’t we talk through this first? Like… what if we have to kiss? Can I?”

“You want some practice?” The tips of his ears immediately turned crimson after your question and you couldn’t stifle a smirk, amused at how easy it was to make him flustered. 

“I’m just asking,” he said as firmly as he could despite feeling like a fool. “What if we have to?”

“What do you mean ‘we have to’? Do you think someone’s gonna force us to prove something or…?”

“No. But we’re a couple.”

“I don’t know what your experience is but couples don’t kiss that much in public. Not unless you’re a horny teenager. Besides, I want our guy to think that even though we’re engaged, neither of us is taking this relationship too seriously.” You paused, but Steve was still quite confused. “You can kiss my cheek or peck my lips. Put your hands on me. But don’t act too possessive. It would help if you go around and flirt with other women. He’d feel less threatened.”

“So basically, you want to seduce him to get the information out of him.”

“That’s the plan.”

“But… are you okay with this?”

“This is my job.” 

Steve clenched his jaw. “Do you think it will work?”

“It always works.”

His answer was no more than a long sigh as he looked away. It was obvious he didn’t like your plan at all and would have much rather preferred to punch his way through everyone.

“Look,” you started, leaning forward. “I know you’re not used to this, but it’s the best and safest way. It’s not that complicated. Just act natural and it should be fine. And let me do the talking.”

***

Steve wasn’t a good liar. When he chose to keep a secret only to spare someone from the ugly truth, he felt as if it was eating him up alive. Now, when he had to lie into everyone’s face, even though they were all strangers, he blocked. He felt like every word that left his lips was unnatural; like his voice didn’t really belong to him. 

“You look ridiculous,” you said after you stepped out of the cab and walked towards the mansion. His steps were either so big you could barely keep up with him or so small that you had to pull on his arm.

“Thanks. You really know how to calm someone down.”

“Oh, sorry.” You wrapped your arm around his, stepping so close you were pressed against his side while you walked up the stairs. People who were outside recognized Captain America immediately and didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were staring. You had a bright smile on while you talked to Steve on a choked tone. “I didn’t know that the “greatest soldier in history” had these kind of problems.”

“Yeah. I’m a soldier, not a spy.”

You stopped a few feet away from the entrance and turned to face him, acting like you were adjusting his tie. “That’s why you should trust me. Just tonight. I know what I’m doing.”

Reluctantly, Steve gave a nod. Arm in arm, you walked into the building. While Steve was quite modest, you flashed a huge smile at everyone who looked your way, trying to give off the impression that unlike Steve, you enjoyed being in the spotlight. Everyone wanted to know who the mysterious woman at Captain America’s side was; you could already see the headlines in the next days papers.

“There’s our guy,” you whispered after stepping into the nicely decorated hall. Almost every person who attended this party deserved to be in prison, yet none of them showed any fear when their eyes fell on Steve. All of them knew they were nearly untouchable, even by the Avengers. “What was his name again?”

“Sandor… Sandor Nagy.”

You smiled at his accent. “Hungarian.” 

“You speak it?”

“I do. Don’t let him know that, though. Maybe he’ll spill something.”

A waitress approached you and you grabbed two glasses of champagne for you and Steve. He took a small sip from his, frowning as you drank yours in one go. 

“Do you think it’s a good idea to drink? We’re on a mission.” He said the last sentence so quietly you could barely catch it.

You arched an eyebrow at him. “You may have the super-soldier serum but I grew up in Russia. I could easily drink you under the table.”

Steve smiled, not entirely sure whether if you were serious or just joking. 

“He’s coming here,” Steve said quietly, turning to you while his entire body tensed.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you rested a hand on the back of his neck. The small hairs on his nape stood up like wire when your breath hit his earlobe. 

“Calm down,” you whispered. “Just be yourself. If he finds it strange you have a fiancée, tell him we didn’t want to shout it out from the rooftops yet.”

Steve swallowed hard and nodded while you gave him a smile that knocked the air out of his lungs. It was so sweet and so loving, he wished it was real and not just an act.

“Captain Rogers,” the man said as he reached the two of you, holding out his hand. He was tall and lean, his hair and eyes chocolate brown, a rough stubble framing his young features. His gaze was sharp, but overall, he didn’t seem like a criminal. “It’s a pleasure to see you here.”

Steve shook his hand firmly. “Thank you.”

“And who is the lady?” Sandor asked with his eyes on you. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Katherine Leach,” you said quickly before Steve had time to introduce you and reveal your real name. You reached your hand out and he shook it gently while you gave him a flirty smile. “Just call me Kate.”

“She’s my fiancée.”

Sandor’s gaze moved from you to Steve while a light frown creasing his forehead. “Oh. I didn’t know Captain America had a fiancée.”

“We’ve been trying to keep it a secret.”

You swallowed the urge to groan out loud at the choice of his words. “He’s a rockstar,” you giggled. “News would be all over with us. I wouldn’t mind it but, you know,” you shrugged, leaning closer. “It could easily ruin any relationship.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but another man appeared next to him, whispering something into his ear. Sandor looked back at you as the man walked away. 

“I hope you will both enjoy yourselves tonight. I’m sure we will talk later.”

He left, but stopped across the hall, talking to a woman who seemed suspiciously familiar to you. They both glanced at your direction, so you turned to Steve.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

You sighed with a smile. “Next time try to act like I’m not an embarrassment,” you said, changing your empty glass to a full one. “He’s still looking at us. Now it would be a good time to show some affection.”

His body tensed again, before he put his hand on the small of your back and leaned closer. “You said I don’t have to kiss you.”

“Geez, Rogers. Would it be so tragic to kiss me? I promise I’m pretty good at it.”

“I didn’t say that, I just… never mind,” he breathed out, before kissed the corner of your mouth. His soft lips lingered there a little longer than it was necessary, pulling you closer with his arm still around you.

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a laugh, but it escaped despite your effort. “Sorry,” you said, sipping your drink. “You’re just so bad at this.”

“Thanks. That’s really funny.”

“I’m gonna ask you something,” you said, matter-of-factly. “You might want to drink your champagne first.”

“Are you not done embarrassing me yet?”

“Oh, no,” you smiled. “You haven’t been intimate with anyone since you got thawed out from the ice, have you?”

Steve looked away, raising the glass to his lips. “You could say that.”

You narrowed your eyes. It was dangerous to question him, but you were dying to know more. “Why is that? I’m sure women are throwing themselves at Captain America all the time,” you said, trying to hide the bitterness from your voice while a pang of jealousy hit you.  

“Yeah. At Captain America.”

Steve tried to sound less disappointed, but he failed miserably. He looked so tough, stiff and aloof, like he had to carry the weight of the world on his back without having a choice. So far, you only had tiny glimpses of the real him, but it was enough to see there was another person behind his shield.

You gave him a gentle smile. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I’m a spy and I’m a seductress. Sometimes I craft lies with an unquestionable background and sometimes… I just make up these petty, cheap lies. Do you think anyone cares while I offer myself on a silver platter? I don’t remember the last time someone was genuinely interested in me or wanted to see more of me than my body.”

Steve opened his mouth but closed it once he realized he had no idea what to say. It was somewhat comforting to know there was someone who understood him, but once again, he felt there was so much more behind those cold eyes than you let him or anyone else know. You rarely ever shared so much about yourself with anyone and he could see your embarrassment from the way your gaze shifted away from him and around the room, searching for something that wasn’t there.

You cleared your throat. “There’s a small group of women behind me who haven’t taken their eyes off you since we arrived. Go there and have some fun. But don’t be too obvious.” 

Steve hesitated. He watched the women but didn’t move, nor did he show any reaction. 

“What? Oh, God, you have no idea how to flirt with women.”

“I do know how to flirt with women. It’s just—courting was a little different in my times.”

“Courting. You’re so sweet.”

“Agent…”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you said, biting back a smile. “Look, just go there and grab a drink. They will approach you in no time. And don’t call me “agent”. Kate, Katie, whatever pet name you’d like to use.”

Steve turned to leave you, but it took him another half an hour to reach his goal. People came up to him every time they saw him alone; everyone wanted to have at least a few words with Captain America. He tried to blend in, relax and not act too obvious like you had told him to, but he found it quite hard. He felt like he had a target painted on his back and he could do nothing about it. 

While you hoped Steve could manage on his own, you tried to take a look around the place. The only door that led out of the hall and into a long corridor was guarded by two men, so for now, you gave up on trying to leave. 

It was harder to be here than you thought it would be. Wherever you looked, familiar faces appeared. At least a dozen men and women who you could name from your days with the K.G.B. and countless others who you had seen at least once before. Suddenly, you felt trapped. If the wrong person recognized you, how easy would it be to take you and make you forget everything from the past years?

“Looking for something?”

Startled, you turned around to see who it was, smiling when you recognized the man as Sandor.

“For some fun,” you replied. Sandor followed your gaze, watching as Steve sat between two women, talking, trying not to look too uncomfortable while they touched his arms or leaned a little too close.

“It isn’t nice of him to just leave you alone like this.”

“I have gotten used to it,” you said with a small sigh. “Some company would be nice, though.”

His eyes bored into yours as he waved a waiter closer. “How about a drink, then?”

Your smile grew. “That would be nice.”

The rest of the evening went smoothly. You didn’t ask anything work-related from Sandor, just let him talk about himself while you shamelessly flirted with him.

Steve always kept an eye on you to make sure everything went fine, glancing at your way from time to time. The only time he couldn’t stand watching you anymore was when Sandor started to come too close to you, touching you the way that made him wanted to fight his way through the crowd and get this mission done his way. Those few minutes were enough to lose you in the sea of people. When he tried to search for you with his eyes again, he found you nowhere around the room. He turned his comms on, regretting the second he did as all he could hear were giggles and heavy breathing. 

Only a couple of minutes later, he saw you approaching the hall from the corridor by the side of a guard. Steve sat alone at a table, drinking scotch and looking like he was having the worst night of his life.

He had been on countless missions, got a million different injuries, but having to watch you flirting with a dangerous man while you had to let him touch you the way he pleased was worse than any injury he had sustained till now. 

“Hey baby.” You plopped down next to him, taking his glass and sipping his drink. “Having a good time?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy?” You winked at him, hoping he’d notice your uncertain steps and slurred words were only acting. 

Steve leaned back. “Did you get anything from him?”

“Sure thing. He spilled every little secret under an hour,” you rolled your eyes, sitting closer. “Relax. He’ll give me everything. We didn’t even reach his office and he was all over me.”

Steve sat straighter, avoiding your eyes. “Then why are you here?”

You raised an eyebrow at his sharp tone. “He was called away. What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” he replied quietly. “It’s just… are you really okay with this?”

“This is my job,” you repeated your words from earlier. “Now how about a dance?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? I can’t believe I can’t dance with my fake fiancé,” you said, a little offended as you stood up and pulled on his arm. “Please?”

“Christ,” Steve mumbled under his breath while he followed you to the dance floor. “I can’t really dance.”

Smiling at him warmly, you rested your palm on his shoulder and took his hand while he wrapped an arm around your waist. You swayed gently to the soft music, moving slowly while you looked into his baby blue eyes. Asking him to dance with you wasn’t right—you knew you should have done everything to keep your distance, but you couldn’t fight the strong pull you felt towards him. A feeling that weakened you more than you thought it would ever be possible. The question bothered you all the time: how much longer you could smother it, hide it how badly you wanted to give in to that powerful feeling? 

Steve’s quiet voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“How do you do this?”

“What?”

“You’re always so confident when you’re lying.”

His words reminded you of your argument again. Even though you said you were not angry at him, it hurt to hear him saying all those things to you. Was this truly all he could see of you?

“I guess it isn’t that hard when you can’t stop lying.”

He sighed. “Agen—Kate. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay. I told you. Let’s move on.”

Turning your head away, you no longer looked into his eyes. Steve thought you looked like you wanted to rip yourself out of his arms. He moved his hand, giving you some space if you wanted to step away from him, but you didn’t leave. Despite holding you so close, Steve felt as if there was a wall between the two of you. 

He heard as you took a sharp breath in, and while he could have sworn he saw tears shimmering in your eyes, your face was blank as always.

“It’s getting late.” You leaned close enough to whisper into his ear. “I’ll try to speed things up a bit. If I disappear with him, follow me in fifteen minutes. Not sooner.”

Steve pulled his head back enough so he could look at you, frowning. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave you alone with him.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Steve wanted to argue, but he saw there was no point. He didn’t like the idea of letting you disappear with that man, knowing well you would do anything for the successful mission. 

Your fake smile returned when the song ended and Sandor walked up to you.

“May I?”

Steve’s gaze was cold as steel while he looked at the man in front of him. He didn’t move and didn’t say a word, and you gently had to kick his leg to shake him out of it.

“Yeah. Why not.”

Dancing with Sandor was completely different than dancing with Steve. His hand immediately slid lower, his grip tighter than you would have allowed to in another situation. But the control was in your hands without him realizing you led him by his nose.

“I have to ask you something,” Sandor said after you spent a long time on the dance floor. You sat down by a small, round table across each other, leaning close to him. “You seem like the type of woman who could get anyone. And you have, well… not just anyone but Captain America. Why would you look for anyone else?”

Your eyes searched for Steve, and Sandor followed your gaze. He sat alone at a table, looking away when you caught his eyes.

“Fun,” you said, turning back to him. “I’m looking for some fun. Something I clearly can’t get with him.”

“You don’t look happy with him.”

“There are benefits,” you shrugged.

He arched an eyebrow, smiling. If he didn’t think you were a gold digger earlier, now he definitely did.

You leaned closer above the table, breath hitting his lips while you spoke. “Now how about we continue that we started earlier?”

He stood up and waited for you to wrap your arm around his, before followed him out of the hall once more. You caught Steve’s eyes; he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, before you quickly looked away from him.

The dimly lit corridor was empty and silent. You started to think no one else was here beside you, when a man reached you and called after Sandor.

“Sir,” he started speaking in Hungarian, glancing at you.  _“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring her to your office?”_

Sandor looked at you, taking in your cheeky smile, before turning back to the man again.  _“Does she look that smart to you?”_

They laughed a little before Sandor joined to you again, placing a hand on the small of your back while you continued your way.

“That was a really nice language. What was it? Polish?”

“Sure it was, sweetheart,” he said, stopping in front of the office to open the door.

You took a look around the room after he let you walk in first, turning the lights on. It was just as richly decorated as the other parts of the building, with a heavy mahogany desk in the middle and bookshelves all around the wall.

“You like it?”

“It’s really nice,” you said, sitting across his lap. He wasted no time before started kissing you and feeling you up. You let him have his way with you while you loosened his tie, hands wandering down to unbuckle his belt.

“What do you want with that?” He asked against your neck while you pulled the black leather free.

“I told you,” you said, wrapping it around the back of his neck. “I’m looking for fun.”

He went back to kissing you, so caught up in trying to push your dress up he didn’t notice when you buckled the belt back, tightening it around his neck until you cut his airway off. He gasped and arched his back, jumping up while you got behind him, pulling his head back. He tried to tear the belt off, but his attempt was disrupted when you elbowed a spot at his nape that made him lose his consciousness immediately.

Seconds after his body hit the ground, the door opened with a loud bang. Steve froze, taking in the scene in front of him, panting from beating the guards all across the hallway.

“Was that fifteen minutes for you?”

“Sorry. Did I interrupt something?”

Ignoring him, you adjusted your clothes and crouched down next to Sandor, searching for anything useful in his pockets.

“Did you kill him?”

“Just knocked him out,” you said, standing up with empty hands. “One of his guards didn’t like the idea of me being here. Maybe there’s a safe with the weapon.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “We should hurry up. It’s only a matter of time before they notice the knocked out guards.”

You emptied all the drawers in the desk, looked behind the paintings and under the rug, but there was nothing useful or even suspicious. Steve broke a lock on a cupboard so you could get access to a bunch of documents, but neither of you could read the language that they were written on.

“Great. Maybe we should try another room.”

“Wait,” Steve said, brows furrowed as he looked around the room. He stepped closer to the bookshelves, pushing them away one by one until he found a secret, iron door behind one of them.

“Classy.”

It has a small panel that required a password. “Can you break it?”

Without any tools you usually used to hack into these kind of systems, it definitely wasn’t easy. It took another ten minutes while Steve constantly paced back and forth behind you, urging you to hurry up. When the little red dot changed to green, he stopped, watching as the doors opened, revealing a secret corridor.

“Well, it isn’t a safe,” you said, starting towards the door, but Steve caught your upper arm.

“Do you think it’s safe to go there? Maybe we should call a team.”

“We might don’t get another chance like this.”

Steve hesitated, before gave a small nod and walked into the corridor with you. There were no warm colours here like the upstairs; cold lights flickered in the white walls.

You took your wig off, throwing it away while you shook your locks free.

“It’s starting to get really hot in here,” you said at Steve’s curious glance.

All of the doors you tried to open were locked, until you finally found one that wasn’t. You exchanged a glance with Steve, before you reached for your knife; the only weapon you had.

Steve pushed the door open. The room was small, packed with cages and laboratory rats, boxes and vials. In the corner, a short, paunchy, balding man sat in white coat. When he spotted you, he raised his hands defensively, pushing his chair back until it hit the cupboard.

Rushing closer to him, Steve grabbed him by his clothes, pulling on it until he stood up. You heard him begging for his dear life in german while you looked around, examining the green liquid in pots and small syringes.

“This is it, isn’t it? How does it work?”

“I—I—please, they—they made me do it—“

“She asked something,” Steve said angrily, tightening his grip. The man started to explain how the serum works, stuttering still, using words and terms neither of you could understand.

“In English, please,” you said, before picked up a syringe. “You know what, just show me.”

Steve let go of him and he adjusted his clothes, walking closer to one of the cages with small, quick steps. He injected one of the rats and you listened as the animal screeched loudly while it quickly turned bigger, attacking and tearing the other rat apart. Under less than a minute, it started shrinking again, as all the water left its small body until nothing left but a parched corpse.

It was hard to tear your gaze away, but Steve was sure when you looked at the scientist again, you could have killed him with your bare hands—and he wouldn’t even try to stop you.

“Who else got from this?”

“I—I don’t know.”

You pushed the tip of your knife against his stomach. “Please, I swear! I’m just here to make it—they don’t tell me anything.”

“Is there an antidote?”

“Antidote?” He asked, laughing, but the look you gave him silenced him. “No the serum—it reacts too fast to use an antidote.”

“Well, doctor,” you said, stepping closer. “If you want to live, you’re going to have to do everything you can to create an antidote.”

The door opened and you all looked in the way of the two men who stood there with guns in their hands. You quickly threw yourself down on the ground, pulling the scientist with you behind a shelf while Steve grabbed a sample of the serum and followed you.

“Do you have any plans?” Steve asked, shielding you with his body.

“Yeah. Improvise.”

“That isn’t really a—“

Steve’s blood ran cold as he watched you leaving your hiding place, running towards the men who never stopped shooting at you. He had already seen Natasha fighting, even experienced her speed when they were sparring, but it still amazed him to see how fast and precise you were. No bullet hit you while you threw you knife straight into the man’s thigh who stood closer to you, making him shout and stopping firing. You ran at him, using him as your human shield, wrenching his gun-holding wrist while you kicked the weapon out of the other’s hand.

Taking advantage of the situation, Steve jumped and picked the gun up, shooting one man while you knocked the other out. The scientist stood from the floor and tried to run away, but Steve quickly grabbed him by his coat.

“Is there a back door somewhere?”

“Ye—yes, I’ll show you.”

“You better do,” you said, picking the other gun up before kicked your high heels down.

There were more armed men coming your way while you tried to find the exit; three, four, five at a time, but you managed to take all of them down. Their fighting skills were nothing compared to yours and Steve’s, even when you had a scientist to protect if you wanted him to make the antidote.

“That’s it—the exit,” the man pointed at a door nearby and you sighed with relief. Your dress was already torn and your body ached from both yours and Steve’s pain.

“Wait,” Steve said, halting. He turned around, listening, even though you couldn’t hear anything.

“What is it?” You asked, staring at the dark corridor. The question barely left your lips when a man stepped out of the shadows with slow steps and you could feel your soul leaving your body. It was one of those faces you would have recognized in a million.

Steve glanced at you, frowning. It wasn’t simple fear that he saw in your eyes; it was something deeper, the kind of terror that made you numb.

Fast and loud footsteps caught your ears when three more men ran out of the corridor. It shook you out of your daze and you looked at Steve. “The big Russian guy is yours,” you said, disappearing in the corridor on your right to fight with the others.

It took longer to take them down while all you could think was the cold, hazel eyes of the sleeper agent you hoped you would never see again. How did he even get here? He was forgotten for such a long time that up until this point, you doubted if he was still alive.

One man was down out of the three when you started to feel seriously drained. That was when you heard it: a shot fired, echoing around the building, followed by a deep, sharp pain above your collarbone. You looked down, searching for blood or a wound, but you were unharmed.

_Steve._

Gaining your strength, pushing yourself through your boundaries, you took the remaining guards down. You collected their weapons and ran out of the hallway, barefoot, just in time to see as the sleeper agent picked Steve up and threw him across the corridor like he weighed nothing. With guns in both hands, you started firing, shooting him until he collapsed on the ground.

Running to Steve, you fell on your knees next to him. “Steve—are you okay?”

He pulled himself up to a sitting position, eyes searching for the man you just shot. “Yeah. Did you kill him?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get out of here.”

Groaning, Steve stood up. “Where is the scientist?”

The door was slightly open and you both started to run. You glanced at Steve’s chest, seeing he was heavily bleeding before you took his forearm and hastened your steps. The exit led to a small forest area. It didn’t take long for you to find the scientist and you pulled him along as well until you found a car. Steve broke a window before you all got inside.

“I should drive.”

“I’m okay,” Steve said without blinking an eye, but you could not only feel the pain where the bullet tore his flesh, but also the way the blood loss made him feel exhausted. You had never experienced anything like this before.

“Steve…”

“We’re almost there.”

“They’re following us.”

In ten minutes you reached the quinjet, dragged the scientist out of the car and up the stairs of the jet. You took a seat and started the engine, gave the coordinates and set up the robot pilot. Steve was just about to sit down next to you when you jumped up and took his arm.

“Come on,” you said to Steve, out of breath. “Sat up the table.”

“I’m okay,” Steve repeated over and over again, while his wound was still heavily bleeding. You felt aching spots all over your body, but after all the injuries you had both suffered from, you couldn’t decide which were his and which were your own.

“Take your shirt off.”

Steve groaned quietly with pain as he took the jacket of his suit off, before he started to unbutton his shirt. He slipped out of the sleeves when you returned with a small tray filled with every tool you needed. After you threw the white, blood-stained shirt away, you peered into his wound. The bullet left an ugly, mangled path, damaging muscles and burning flesh on its way; dark bruises colouring his pale chest.

Steve examined your face, but you didn’t even wince from the sight. If it wasn’t for the fear that still sat in the depth of your eyes, he would have trusted you with this completely. “Do you know how to do this? Maybe we should just—”

“You’ll bleed out. I can do this.”

“I’m a doctor.” 

The sudden voice of the scientist made you jump as he walked up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere. “I—I can help him.”

“Don’t even think of touching him!” 

Steve’s lips parted as he watched you grabbing the man by his throat and pushing him back against the wall with such force he hit his head and lost consciousness. 

You huffed out an angry breath, knees trembling as you turned back to Steve. His gaze met with yours for a short second before you stood between his parted legs and sterilized the wound. It sent a new wave of pain through you, but you bit your tongue and tried not showing any sign of it. You picked up the small forceps, but before you could reach into the wound, you felt Steve’s hand on yours.

“You’re shaking.” 

Taking a deep breath, you picked up a small gauze with your free hand to stop the bleeding while reached into the wound with the forceps. Steve held your wrist steady, almost unconsciously rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand to soothe you. He grasped a little tighter when the pain was nearly unbearable, but remained careful so as to not hurt you. It made you stop and look into his eyes but they were closed, his jaw clenched. Even in immense pain, he had enough composure and self-control to keep himself back when there was a chance of hurting someone else. Swallowing hard, you slowly grasped the bullet and pulled it out, ever so carefully, sighing with relief when it was finally out. It clinked loudly when you dropped it on the tray.

Panting, you didn’t move, feeling like your whole body go numb. It was overwhelming, everything that had happened less than an hour ago.  Hesitantly, Steve reached out to hold your shaking hand, but your blood coated fingers slipped out of his grasp. 

“Y/N. What’s wrong?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you intended to let out a slow breath, but it came out as something similar to a sob. The sound made Steve’s heart ache more than he thought it was possible. 

“Nothing,” you lied, avoiding his eyes while you stepped away to wash your hands. “I have to stitch you up.”

“Don’t bother. It’ll heal in a couple hours.”

“I still have to stop the bleeding.”

Steve sat idly while you carefully cleaned the wound. He had a million questions he needed to ask, still confused why you looked so scared and shaken. But first, he wanted to make sure you had no major injuries. 

“Are you hurt?”                

It was hard to stifle a sad smile that involuntarily lifted the corner of your lips. Oh, if you’d only knew. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, not waiting for your answer as he reached out to gently wipe blood off your temple. A little too quickly, you brushed his hand away from your face. You couldn’t let him know where exactly you were hurt.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

Steve pulled his arm back and didn’t try to touch you again. He could tell you were upset and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel more uncomfortable than you already felt. But still, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way when horror filled the depth of your eyes.

“Who was that man? Big russian guy?”

Thinking of him again made your knees tremble and your hand stopped for a second. You swallowed hard, as if there was a lump in your throat. “A sleeper agent,” you said shortly, gaze on Steve’s injury. “The Red Room wasn’t the only training facility of Department X. One of their projects was… well, they made their own super soldiers. They got injected with a serum, a recreation of what you got. They received training. They’re not only strong and fast, but also highly trained in various martial arts and dangerously skilled in them, they can sneak up on anyone, they can use almost any weapon, they can make everything look like an accident…” you paused for a second to take a deep breath. The more you said, the more the creases on Steve’s forehead deepened.

“You were chosen for this, but you also had a choice,” you continued, looking into his eyes. “The sleepers… none of them was a willing subject. Their memories were wiped. Probably got a few new ones just like I did. Some of them didn’t even have a name. They were just… weapons.”

“Why do you call them sleeper agents?”

As you finished cleaning his wound and bandaged him up, you sat up on the table next to him.

“One of Department X’s specialties was brainwashing. They experimented with all kinds of techniques. Electroconvulsive therapy, hypnosis, hallucinogens, sensory deprivation… whatever they thought worked the best. But no matter how effective it was, they couldn’t just cut a memory out of the brain. It’s still there, no matter how much they wanted to take it from us. The first of the sleepers, not the one you saw, he started to remember his old life when he was out for too long. The K.G.B. decided it’s for the best if they just… put him in a cryo-cell and only woke him up if they needed to send him on a mission.  Like this, they could also keep them young. The guy you saw is probably as old as you are.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Did they… do that with you too?”

You gripped the edge of the table a little harder. No matter how much you told him, you always left the part out where you also received a serum that was designed to keep you young. It would be very easy to piece the truth together with that seemingly small information. 

“No. They didn’t wipe our memories that often because… well, we were kids when they took us. It was easier to shape us to their liking. But they did it when they felt it necessary.”

Steve was silent for a while. He momentarily forgot about the sleeper agents and all he could think of were the tortures you had to go through. “You and Natasha… you were the only ones?”

“Oh, no. There were 28 of us.”

“So what about the others? Are they still there? Is the Red Room still working?”

You looked up to keep the tears back, clearing your throat before turning to him. “It was a part of our training. We… we basically killed each other. They let us be friends. It was a good way to sort out the weak and only leave the strongest alive. I first killed when I was twelve. She was one of my best friends. Snapped her neck because I knew if I didn’t she would have done it to me. It helped to teach us we shouldn’t trust anyone. Or love anyone.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

You gave him a tiny smile. “Anyway, after a while, the sleepers were forgotten. Left in their cryo for god-knows how long. I’m not sure of the process of waking them up but I know you need an activation code too. Something only the KG.B. knows. Or knew.”

“Activation code?”

“They’re like… trigger words. I know it’s hard to understand but… they were brainwashed. If you know the words and tell them they’ll do anything you tell them to do.”

“So you think Russians are behind this?”

You glanced at the scientist. “Maybe. Something tells me they aren’t.”

Steve frowned while he quickly put two and two together. “If you’re saying only someone with the codes can wake up these guys and they aren’t Russians…”

“Then someone else knows the words and the place they are sleeping. Or slept. If one of them is out…”

“We have to inform S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Your heart skipped a beat. After all these years, you still couldn’t entirely trust them. “Okay. But only Fury.”

“Why?”

“Just… please.”

Steve sighed and gave a nod. He glanced at your hands that gripped the edge of the table with an iron grip. “You looked terrified when you saw him. Did he hurt you before?”

“No—well… they trained us. And they were told not to hold back.”

He clenched his fists and slipped off the table. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

You both cleaned yourself up a little, wiped the dried blood off your hands. Steve put on a t-shirt and you changed from the torn dress, cleaned your face from the smudged makeup and sat down on the bench. You should have woken the scientist up and questioned him, but you already felt way too exhausted. Steve brought you some food and water, but you knew you couldn’t force anything down without throwing it up. He gave you a thin blanket he found and wrapped it over your back. Warmth was still comforting, even though you didn’t feel cold anymore.

Steve sat down next to you. “Y/N, about earlier…”

“Just forget it.”

“No. I really want to apologize. I shouldn’t have pulled that out of you and I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a gentle smile. He sounded so genuine. “It’s fine. I understand why you didn’t trust me. I just…” you paused, heaving a deep sigh. “Once it would be nice not to be judged by my past.”

“I didn’t judge you by your past.”

“You’re right. You judged me even before you had a chance to learn anything about me,” you said, not angrily, with a hint of a small smirk.

Steve smiled. “I’m sorry. I can’t trust easily either.”

“It’s okay.”

You both leaned back and sat in silence for long minutes. There was still a million things flashing through your brain, making you shiver when your thoughts wandered too far back.

“Do you think he will speak?” Steve asked, nodding at the scientist who still lay on the bench.

“Yeah. He’s scared.”

Steve pulled the small vial of serum out of his pocket. It cracked, but didn’t break. He watched you as you stared at it with sadness in your eyes, before he hid it again.

“Do you like doing this?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows. “I… why are you asking?”

Sam’s question still echoed in Steve’s head. He felt even lonelier since he realized he couldn’t find a single thing that made him happy, but he started to think that maybe he wasn’t alone.

“I understand you were raised to do this but you’re not in Russia anymore. You’re free. You could do whatever you want to do.”

You let out a long breath, wishing it would be as easy as he thought it was. Never in your life before you had the privilege to choose. Deciding what you really wanted to do instead of waiting for someone to tell you what you had to do was something you still needed to learn. It was a slow process. Working for S.H.I.E.L.D. helped you not only to slowly become better, but also in providing you some support instead of being thrown out into the world. 

“I can’t imagine myself doing anything else,” you said. “There’s too much blood on my hands. I’m not sure I can wipe all of it down but… I’d like to try.”

“You can,” Steve said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

You smiled. “I have a feeling you’re giving me too much credit.”

As he leaned back, his shoulder brushed against yours. “Or maybe you don’t give yourself enough.”

His words made you look at him with so much adoration your eyes watered once more. It hurt to swallow while all you wanted to do was to tell him everything that you should have told a long time ago. You felt so very close to him like never before. It was an addictive feeling, intoxicating, making you want to not only to confess, but get physically close to him as well. His leg and his arm already touched yours and you could barely keep yourself from snuggling up to him.

But while these feelings overwhelmed you, you were nothing more than a stranger to him. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slower than usual, but since I haven’t updated this story in a while, I thought it was about time to post something. :)

Steve’s pain added to yours took a toll on you. It was hard to keep your eyes open on the way back to Washington, but you knew once you closed them, nightmares would haunt you. 

There were days when it was easier to leave your past behind, to forget all your dirty secrets, but it didn’t take much to trigger something in you that reminded you of everything; even bringing up memories that were taken from you. On those nights, disturbing visions woke you up. Never once could you be entirely sure if they were long forgotten pieces of your past, or only horrible dreams. 

Waves of exhaustion washed over you and you closed your eyes, just to rest them, when a pair of eyes of a sleeper agent stared back at you. He wasn’t the one you saw tonight. The empty gaze behind the cold blue eyes looked deep into your soul; anger, fear and sympathy all mingled in his expression. Pictures flashed through your mind, some in slow motion and some so fast you didn’t even have the time to comprehend what you saw. The hard steel gaze, your own mixed feelings, knowing you had to take him  _ home _ because you had no other choice, the glint of light on the metal arm that nearly choked the life out of you on more than one occasion—

You blinked, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. It was no dream—the feelings too intense and the pictures too vivid to be one. And yet, you didn’t even try to grasp it to recollect the lost pieces; you just wished you could bury it with the rest of the haunting memories.

Steve gave up on asking if you were okay and trying to convince you to get some sleep a while ago, but he never stopped shooting worried glances at your direction. After your talk, he had more and more questions popping up in his mind, but he decided to give you some space. He wanted to comfort you, but after everything you had told him, he couldn’t think of anything to say that would give some relief to your aching soul. 

Steve had always liked to take care of people, but with you, for some inexplicable reason, the yearning was great. He didn’t even try to brush the feeling off—it was overwhelming but it felt  _ so right _ . He just wished you let him help.

The agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. quickly took the scientist the moment your plane arrived, dragging him inside the headquarters whilst he pretended to be sleeping. You were still on the quinjet when Fury arrived, asking you questions you were too exhausted to answer. 

Thankfully, Steve took care of it. You didn’t even pay attention to their conversation until you heard them raising their voices in the quiet night, Fury saying it couldn’t wait and Steve arguing, telling him you were in no condition to retell everything that had happened in the past few hours. An urge to stand up and tell them you were fine washed over you, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. It made you feel even more miserable. You always acted like a professional in these situations no matter how weak you were feeling, but for the first time in a very long time, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie. 

After a short but heated argument, Fury made Steve promise he’d see you both first thing in the morning. It was late already, you couldn’t get more than a couple hours of sleep even if you wanted to.  

You wanted to tell Steve he didn't have to do that, you were fine and you could have talked to Fury now, but the words stuck in your throat. While he approached you, you exchanged a lingering, silent glance that meant nothing to him but awoke thousands of memories within you. Days in the Red Room when you were drained out, nights when you couldn’t even move from the endless emptiness. Times when you were so numb you didn’t think you would feel warmth spreading through you ever again, when the only thing you were able to feel was Steve’s pain. Your own was nothing, insignificant, just like now. But there was Steve with his aches that were yours too; they hurt, they weakened you, and yet, they were  the only thing that made you feel alive.

Your knees gave out when you stepped out of the elevator, maybe not enough to fall but stumble a little. Steve was quick to catch you, his strong arms keeping you steady while you regained your posture.

“Are you okay?” He asked, sincere worry oozing from his voice while his arm was still wrapped around your stomach, his free hand gently pressed to your arm. 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you said shortly, forcing a tiny smile. 

Feeling as if you wanted to tear yourself out of his grasp, he let go of you, but he kept his hand behind your back without touching you, making sure he was right there in case you lost your balance again. 

“Do you need a ride?” Steve asked while you walked through the garage, though he had no intention of letting you drive.

“I have my motorbike here.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t drive now,” Steve pressed while you stopped next to your vehicle, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m fine, okay? Just a little tired. I can drive myself home.” To emphasize your words, you spun around without waiting for his reaction, but it was a mistake. You lost your balance once more, only Steve’s hand on your back keeping you from landing on the ground. A defeated sigh left your lips after you just proved him right.

“Let me take you home.”

It wasn’t any different than before. Leaning into him while you sat behind him, arms wrapped around his waist made you feel safe and content despite the circumstances.  The invisible string that stretched between the two of you for nearly a hundred years had never been so short. As so many times before, you wondered again whether if he felt anything from the unique connection you had. Did he feel closer to you tonight? Did he feel the strong push and pull, wanting to keep you close in one second and run away in the next? Deep down you knew it was impossible not to notice that powerful, primal urge to keep the other safe, away from all the pain. Did he ever ponder why he was having such intense emotions in your presence?

Steve walked you into the building and up to the door. He not only wanted to make sure you were fine and that you wouldn’t stumble down the stairs, but also, he really didn’t want to leave. He knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to make you invite him in, but he wanted to stay with you so badly he found it hard to bite the question back. 

“Thank you for… you know, you really didn’t have to…” 

“It’s okay,” Steve said softly. “Do you feel better?”

“No,” you said honestly. “ But I’ll be. I just need some time.”

You leaned against the door, fiddling with your keys while you just watched each other. Being alone wasn’t anything new for you but tonight, you craved to be with someone. 

Eventually, Steve nodded. “Get some rest. We have to wake up early.” 

“I don’t think I can get any sleep tonight,” you said, avoiding his eyes. Steve saw you were exhausted and sleepy, but refused to close your eyes. He figured you were afraid—he knew the feeling all too well from all the restless nights he had behind his back.

“Do you want me to… I can stay with you, if you want me to. We have to go to the debriefing together anyway in a few hours.” 

Swallowing hard, you crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted to accept his offer so badly, your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

“I’m not made of glass, Steve,” you tried to joke, a hint of a smile on your lips. 

Steve couldn’t stifle a smile either, because hearing you calling him by his name repeatedly this day made his heart swell. “Yes. I could see that tonight. But…” 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” 

“I know,” Steve said. He didn’t mean to push you into anything you didn’t feel comfortable with, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t mind his company as much as you had tried to make it look like otherwise. “But I’d like to.”

“Why?”

Steve sighed. How could he make you understand when he couldn’t even explain to himself the sea of emotions that was swirling within him? He wanted to make sure you were safe and he wanted to feel you trusted him enough to let him help, but how could he tell you all of this? You barely even knew each other. 

“I thought you wouldn’t mind a friendly face.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “So that’s what we are now? Friends?”

“I could definitely use some of them right now,” he said. “And you look like you could, too.” 

Turning away, you put the key into the lock, opening the door without looking at him. You stepped into the flat, hand resting on the knob. He didn’t step inside and you parted your lips to say goodnight, but instead of sending him away, you opened the door wider to invite him in.

Thankfully, Nat was still away on a mission—otherwise she’d have lots of questions for you in the morning. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you said, throwing your keys down and stepping out of your shoes. “Make yourself at home.” 

Steve couldn’t, even if he wanted to. This apartment was the farthest from anything he could ever call home; he even started to wonder if you really lived there. Every room looked like they were straight up copied from an ikea catalogue; all plain colours and nothing but the most necessary furniture and equipment. He peeked into your bedroom since you left the door open, but it was just the same: everything white and light grey except the deep purple bedding and a few cushions. There was a small bookshelf stacked with what looked like old copies of classic novels, a pair of blush pink ballet shoes hanging from the edge of a chair. The lack of personal touches made Steve realize he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t find his place. 

He plopped down on the couch in the living room, sinking down and resting his head on the backrest. He felt deeply exhausted, his body aching all over. He didn’t lie when he said he wanted to take care of you, but the truth was, he didn’t want to be alone either. Ever since he woke up in this new world, he felt disconnected. Loneliness bore a hole in his heart, deeper and deeper every day, longing to have something, someone who could help him find his path again. It was better on some days—when he buried himself in his work or spent time with Sam, when he joked around with Nat or when his team cheered him after a successful mission, he believed he had a place here. Other times he felt so far away from everything and everyone, like he did tonight, up until your arms were securely wrapped around him. It wasn’t the physical contact but the sheer thought you trusted him enough to let him take care of you that had him craving for more. 

And here he was now, sitting on your couch, slowly realizing you were not at all that different from him as he used to think. Steve had had feelings for women before. Crushes on girls who turned him down, wishing they could at least give him a chance. A little more for Peggy, even hoping she would be his soulmate. Something entirely different for you he had not experienced before, even risking falling for you. He knew he couldn’t fight it, but he couldn’t stop the stinging guilt either—he should wait for his soulmate. How could he have ever given up on them? 

After a quick and not too hot a shower, fearing the warm water would burn your scars too much, you joined Steve. While he took a shower as well, you made a tray of sandwiches, knowing his fast metabolism probably left him starving by now. Slowly, you started to regain your appetite too. Having him around gave you back that warmth you had been missing.

Steve left the bathroom shirtless, asking for something to clean the blood up since his wound started bleeding again. You made him sit down before pulled a chair close to him and changed the bandage.

“You don’t need to stitch me up,” you mocked while cleaned his wound. “It’ll heal in a couple hours.” 

Steve smiled. “It will, though.”

His voice sounded deep and his breath hit your face as he spoke. You glanced up at him from under your lashes, sighing, before focussing on your little task again—which wasn’t easy at all. His hair was damp and tousled, his skin soft, warm and smelling of your soap. It involuntarily made you smile. 

When you finished up the bandaging, you stood and tossed him back the black hoodie with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on its front, even though half-naked Steve was undoubtedly a much more pleasant sight in your kitchen.

For a while, you ate quietly in the living room. Even though neither of you said a word, it felt good to have him there, knowing you would probably go crazy if you were alone with your thoughts. When the silence was getting too much and your mind started to wander to places it shouldn’t, you put on some quiet, relaxing music that even Steve seemed to enjoy listening to.

He offered to wash the dishes and you didn’t argue, sinking back into the cushions with your feet pulled up. When he returned minutes later, he found you half-lying, wrapped in a soft blanket and nearly dozing off. You shifted when you saw him, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“So you don’t like sleeping?” He asked, trying to joke and broke the tension. 

“I guess you wouldn’t either if your past kept haunting you.”

Steve’s smile faltered, then faded as he glanced down.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” 

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, before stayed silent for a long minute. “This is what survival is about, isn’t it? We’re all suffering from the same things.” 

You gave him a small smile. It was rare when someone understood you so well.

“What do you dream about?”

It probably wasn’t the right thing to ask—it was too personal and there was a chance he’d simply shut you out after your question, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Perhaps it might be relieving for him to get some of it off his chest. Besides, hearing that someone else struggled the same way you did made you feel a little less alone. 

Steve watched you silently, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He had talked about this with Sam before, but only him, and telling it to a new person felt like talking about it for the first time again. 

“The war,” he said simply after his long pause. It suddenly reminded you that for him, the war and all the horrors that came with it only happened a little more than a year ago. “Lost friends. Sometimes the ice.” 

His last words made your heart beat faster. “When you were in the ice, did you feel anything?”

“No,” Steve said. “When I woke up, I just felt like I slept for a very long time. Sometimes when I have those nightmares though… it’s like I can almost feel the burning of the cold.” 

You turned your gaze away, biting your lip to hide its trembling. It was heartening, knowing all those years passed without him feeling any of the pain. 

“What about you?”

You looked back at him with a sad smile. “If I told you, you’d run away.”

Steve said your name softly, unconsciously sitting closer. “You don’t have to be ashamed of your past.”

“But I am. And always will be.”

He heaved a sigh and combed his hair back with his fingers. He remembered his visit to Peggy a few days ago, her words endlessly echoing in his head. Sometimes he felt like there was nothing for him here, but he knew there was nothing in the past either. It was strange, scary even, but he couldn’t keep being stuck in the past just because it was familiar. 

“I lost nearly seventy years of my life when I went into the ice,” Steve started, drawing your attention once more. “I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t just… run back.” He went quiet, only to take a deep breath, but your voice made him stop before he could continue. 

“Would you?” You asked softly. “If you could go back, would you?”

Steve raised his brows and shook his head, the simple thought sounding so insane and so absurd he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Would he though? He missed his friends, he missed  _ his time _ , and yet, he couldn’t stop thinking maybe this was his fate. After all, his soulmate was here, too. “I—no. I can’t. Changes freak me out sometimes and there’s a lot of it to take in, but I can’t run back to the past just because I’ve already been there. Just as you can’t run away from it either.”

You sighed, looking away again. The last thing you needed was a lecture. 

“Whatever happened, it already happened. You’d just carry all of it on your back wherever you go.”

“I still do.”

“I still do too,” Steve said. “I think we always will. But it will get better. It has to.”

You weren’t sure if he was telling that to you or to himself. “I wish I had your optimism.” 

Steve gave a genuine, but quiet laugh. After that, your conversation became a little lighter. Steve saw you were still not comfortable enough to talk about your past and he decided to let it go, trying to make you feel better by taking your mind off of it. 

It was nearly five in the morning when you couldn’t stop yawning anymore and despite all your effort, you dozed off. Steve didn’t wake you, hoping you could get some restful sleep. He stood up and turned the music off, adjusted the blanket over your body as it slid off earlier, then sat back to get some rest, too. He closed his eyes, but he didn’t think he could fall asleep—his mind was still racing too much to shut it off. 

Minutes passed like hours until he felt something bumping against his shoulder; he almost jumped, lifting his head to see it was only your head that fell on him. The position wasn’t quite comfortable for him with his arm trapped between the two of you, and judging by the weird angle of your neck, it probably wasn’t the best for you either. Still, he let you sleep. 

He let you until he could, because Steve knew you could be startled any minute. After a while, when he nearly fell asleep too, he started to think maybe he was wrong and the nightmares would avoid your sleep, when he heard your breath quicken. He waited a little, hoping it would pass, but when you started to squirm too, slurred russian words leaving your lips, he decided not to wait it out. Putting his hands on your shoulders and calling your name, he gently shook you.

The reaction was nearly immediate. You gasped, eyes shooting wide open as you grasped his forearm, gripping so tightly you could feel the pressure on your own body, too. It made you calm down, more like his voice that still repeated your name, telling you it was fine and you were here, not anywhere else. 

You eased your grip, but refused to let go of his arm, desperate to hold onto him. Steve searched for your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“Do you need something?” you heard him asking, so close to you that his whisper was clear in your ears.

In your sleepy haze, you looked up into his eyes and shook your head. His arm gently rubbed your back, hesitant at first, but you gave him a smile to let him know it was okay. He so easily soothed you like nothing and no one before. 

“Do you want to try to go back to sleep?”

Without answering his question, your head fell on his chest. “Depends. Will you let me sleep here?”

Steve smiled, realizing he craved this more than he thought. He leaned back on the couch and kept your rubbing your back. And while you didn’t get any sleep after that, neither of you complained.    
  



	8. Chapter 8

Things should have gotten better after the night you had spent with Steve. They had, in a way. It was easier to talk to him now that he didn’t give you those suspicious glances like he used to all the time. Instead of the mistrustful looks, he almost always smiled when he bumped into you at the headquarters. It seemed like fighting by his side and opening up to him had destroyed the walls he built up around himself—he trusted you, even though you couldn’t tell how much. 

On the other hand, it was a torture to be closer to him. 

Since he started working for S.H.I.E.L.D. too, you kept pushing your feelings down, bottling them up. Day by day it was getting too much, always a little worse after you had spent some time with him. You had small talks in the corridors, longer ones in the cafeteria or the parking lot when you simply couldn’t keep yourself away from him. How could you? After falling asleep in his arms, having him hold you, soothing your pain and fear like no one else did before, how could you just turn away from him? You had always known your soulmate was a weakness of yours, even when you didn’t even know who he was. A soft spot you weren’t allowed to have in the Red Room, but something -  _ the only thing _ \- they couldn’t take away from you. You had always known, but only started to see how easily he weakened you when you started getting closer to him. All the professionalism, everything you had been taught was nearly thrown out of the window when Steve was near you. 

Sometimes you thought it was for the better, craving to leave another piece behind that they had beaten into you in Russia. It was all you wanted, after all; to be more human instead of the weapon they created. Steve made you feel things you didn’t even know you could feel. He made your tummy flutter, your knees turn to jelly, your skin burn hot; he caused heartaches, deep with longings that somehow got even stronger when you were around him. 

The unfamiliar emotions made you so weak, so exhausted with all the lies, sometimes you’d almost feel like telling him everything, spilling all the secrets. As more time passed, the more you wished you had never lied to him in the first place, but you felt like there was no going back now. 

Steve valued honesty above everything else. Soulmate or not, what would he say when he learned you had been keeping such a big secret from him for over a year? If he wasn’t disappointed because of  _ who _ you were, he would definitely be disappointed with you lying to him. He was so  _ good _ , vulnerable and gentle, that sometimes you’d look at him and it nearly broke your heart. His authoritative presence vanished into thin air when he talked to you, giving you that lovely smile that made you melt. It pained you to think he was nothing but nice to you while you treated him the way you did. 

In the past weeks, as you expected, nightmares kept ruining your sleep. Faces of sleeper agents you had long forgotten, memories that were taken away from you slowly started coming back. There was one particular memory that troubled you the most.

While you saw it first when you were sleeping, it didn’t feel like a dream. That certain shade of crimson that used to colour the Soviet Union too vivid, Petrovitch’s presence too real, Karpov’s eyes too threatening, silencing you with one small glance. Sometimes it was hard to decide what was a nightmare and what was an old memory, but a couple days were enough to make it clear. Natalia and one of the sleeper agents, more precisely the Winter Soldier had fallen in love. You couldn’t remember everything due to your damaged memories, but you knew for sure you had only learned this from Karpov, and Nat had never talked about it. 

You struggled a lot with whether you should ask her about it or leave her alone. Did she remember anything at all? Her memories were taken as well along with yours, but there was a chance they came back to her just like yours did. Maybe she wanted to forget. 

The question that truly bothered you was why she had never told you that she had a romance with someone. Of course you understood why she needed to keep it a secret—the moment the K.G.B. learned about it, they wiped Nat’s memories out, and who knows what they had done with the soldier. But why did she feel like she had to lie to you as well? You had told her everything. She knew about your soulmate—you even told her when you thought he had died. It made you think if she trusted you at all. 

One part of you hated yourself for questioning her, but you knew it wasn’t really your fault. In the Red Room, while they let you be friends, sisters even, they also pit you against each other whenever they felt it was necessary. How many times have you had to kill one of the girls who trusted you as much as Nat did? How betrayed they must have felt when they knew you were about to take their lives? Perhaps, no matter how much she tried to trust you, deep down she was deadly scared you’d sold them out. And for that, you couldn’t really blame her. 

Late one night, when your loud thoughts were keeping you up, you threw your blankets away and left the bedroom. It seemed for some reason that Nat couldn’t sleep either, since she sat on the couch with a laptop propped up on her knees,  deep creases on her forehead. Her features softened a little when she saw you, glancing at you momentarily before she returned to looking at the bright screen. 

It wasn’t rare when you were both in the same room, just minding your own business. She was probably working on something, maybe writing a report or researching for a mission.

“What is it?” Nat asked without looking at you, typing away. 

You smiled, knowing she could feel your eyes on her back. Finishing your cup of water, you moved back to the living room without a word, plopping down on the other side of the couch. Finally, she glanced up with an arched eyebrow.

“Do you remember the sleeper agents?”

Nat’s reaction was immediate. She swallowed thickly, her eyes going wide and full of fear. You watched her face, forcing herself to calm down, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“It’s hard not to.”

You glanced down, then away from her as you leaned against the couch. Knowing she’d have questions now that you had just brought the subject up so out of the blue, you decided to give her an answer. 

“I met one of them.”

It was not necessary to look at her—she didn’t even try to hide the shock and terror out of her voice. “What? When?”

Natalia came back home two days after you did after your mission with Steve. She didn’t even have to ask what happened; one look at you told her he still didn’t know you were soulmates. You told her a few things then, but left the part out when you had to take down a sleeper. 

After the debriefing you had to go through with Steve, Pierce wanted to hear the full story from the two of you too. It was rare he talked to any of you, but considering the circumstances, you didn’t find it strange at all. 

However, Pierce immediately took both you and Steve off the case. The bio-weapon was in your hands but you thought they would send you to find the other sleeper agents after learning there were more of them, but they didn’t. This, however, caused you a few sleepless nights as well. Who could be more perfect for the job than you, who once knew them and fought with them, and Captain America? Steve didn’t mind it that much—it was mostly a stealth mission and he thought there were better agents for the job than him. It’s not like you minded the case wasn’t yours; you really didn’t fancy the idea of basically running after your past, but the simple fact they didn’t even offer you the job was what bothered you. Pierce also made the both of you swear you wouldn’t talk about this to anyone, which made perfect sense, but right now, just rubbed you the wrong way.

But now, you told Nat everything. She looked scared while you talked, listening carefully until you finished. The first question that left her lips didn’t surprise you at all. 

“Do you know which one of them was he?”

“No,” you replied. Her question confirmed your thoughts—she had to remember something. “How could I? We never really knew them. Or did you?”

Nat sighed, then shook her head and looked away.

“When was the last time you saw any of them?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“It’s hard to tell,” Nat said, staring off into the distance while thinking hard. “In the 80’s? Early 90’s, maybe. After Karpov died though, all of them were left in those cryostasis chambers. I thought they were still there.” 

“Apparently, they are not,” you muttered under your breath.

“But—what about the others? Do we know if there are more of them? And since how long?”

“Pierce took me off the case. I know nothing,” you said, slipping just a little closer to ask the question that bothered you for weeks. “Nat, what about the Winter Soldier?”

“What about him?”

Whether she was acting or not, you couldn’t tell. You waited a few seconds, still hesitating. Should you really bring this up to her? This time, curiosity won. 

“I had a dream. Well, it wasn’t really a dream, you know.” Nat gave a nod, understanding perfectly what you meant. “I just heard… Karpov said that you—” you stopped, taking a deep breath. “I had to bring him back to Russia and that they didn’t send you because you had… history.”

Nat glanced down, staying quiet for so long you weren’t sure she’d said another word. Just when you wanted to call her name, she finally spoke up.

“I can’t tell you what happened because I don’t remember anything,” she said, lifting her head to look at you, blinking her tears back. “Sometimes I see his face in my dreams. Or hear him saying my name. I have these… strong feelings washing over me. But I wasn’t even sure any of these were real until what you just told me now.”

You felt your heart dropping to the floor. Suddenly, all of your doubts left you, no longer questioning Natalia but only feeling sorry for her. How could you blame her for keeping their relationship in secret? She was scared what would happen and with a good reason. She was here now, decades later, not remembering anything but tiny pieces of him. 

It made you wonder what would the K.G.B. have done if they knew about your soulmate. Would they have done anything to find out who he was to take him out of the picture? It sent an uncomfortable shiver up your spine. Steve was never really yours but the thought of losing him now you had him somewhat close made your heart ache. 

“I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.”

“It’s okay. I can’t remember much of him anyway,” she said with a small smile, but it was an exaggeration. After what you had just told her, the only thing that must have been on her mind was what would happen if she met him again. “What about the one who attacked you?”

“According to Fury, my shots were deadly.”

Nat nodded, but couldn’t keep the uncomfortable thought away: what if it was  _ her _ soldier you had killed. It was like she never even knew him, but somewhere deep down, the feelings were still there. 

“Of all the girls, you had to be the one who seduces the most dangerous man in the world,” you joked, trying to break the tension. It made Nat laugh.

“What can I say? I’ve always had a type.”

You smiled and stood up, putting your hand on her shoulder when you were behind the couch. “Will you be okay?”

“Sure. And thank you for telling me.”

Giving a nod, you started towards your bedroom, but Nat’s voice stopped you again. She said your name and you turned back, standing in the shadowy corridor.

“Please, talk to Steve.”

You sighed. “Nat, I…” 

“He really likes you, you know?  _ You. _ Not an idea of someone who’s bonded to him. He doesn’t even know you’re his soulmate but it’s enough to see how he looks at you. Please stop making the both of you suffer.” 

You glanced down, before gave her a small smile and returned to your bed.

***

After your first mission with Steve, you suspected a second would follow soon enough. Merely one month later, Fury had called you into his office and assigned you to join him and his team. It was usually Nat who was there with them, but she was on “urgent Avengers business” so the obvious choice was you. 

This time you didn’t even try to argue with Fury, but couldn’t hide your displeasure either while you were in the quinjet, sulking in the corner like a little girl. You not only had to work together with a team of eight people, this team included men you really hated to contribute with. Not to mention that there was Steve—you knew a tiny mistake would be enough and he would learn your secret. 

“Why the long face?” Rumlow asked, sitting down next to you on the bench. As he leaned back, his shoulder nearly brushed against yours.

You gave him a dark glance. “I just really missed working with you.”

He grinned. “You know, a smile and some kindness wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yes, it would,” you said, before jumped up from the bench. 

While you walked away from him, you heard him muttering  _ “I didn’t say anything wrong!” _ , making you roll your eyes. Your gaze fell on Steve and without a second thought, you approached him. He just adjusted the belt on his stealth suit and smiled down at you—a smile that easily made you forget Rumlow’s annoying face. 

“I know you aren’t happy about this,” Steve said so only you could hear him. “But try to work with us.” 

“As long as you don’t put me anywhere near Rumlow.”

Steve’s eyes wandered to Brock. He frowned, straightened himself as if he was feeling uncomfortable, before looked back at you. “What’s going on between you?”

“I had the pleasure of spending some time with him in the past.” 

Steve felt a sudden sting of jealousy, overwhelming him with the intensity of the feeling. He clenched his jaw and tried to keep his voice as neutral as he could. “So did you two…?”

You raised your eyebrows, before your mouth fell open in realization. “Eww, no. We just worked together a lot. Until a little incident.”

Steve felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. “What incident?”

“I accidentally left him behind while I went alone on the mission.”

“Accidentally, huh?” Steve bit back a smile, licking his lips. “Listen. You don’t have to like him. But we’re on a mission,” he said firmly, but still sounding friendly. “You have to cooperate or you’re gonna put all of us in danger.” 

You heaved a sigh. “Am I allowed to punch him?”

Steve glanced at Rumlow once more, who was in the middle of telling a dirty joke to Rollins. “You have my permission.”

You stifled a smile but held his gaze a little longer than it was necessary. Those kind blue eyes with the tiny green spots, framed by his long eyelashes never failed to make your knees go weak. 

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly when you wanted to turn away, making you to step back. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “Are you feeling better? Do you still have nightmares?”

Steve watched as you took a sharp breath in, shifting your weight from one leg to the other while you glanced around to make sure no one was listening. It dawned on him once again how special it was what he experienced with you a couple weeks back after your mission. He could only imagine how long it could have been when you last let someone see you so vulnerable, if you ever did. It made his heart heavy, because he knew what it felt like having no one, but it also filled him with warmth, knowing that you trusted him enough to let your walls down a little around him.

“I’m… it’s getting better.” It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t a lie either. While nightmares woke you every night the first week, they didn’t come as frequently anymore.

Steve nodded. “If you… if you need some help… I have this friend who’s leading this group session for veterans…”

You gave him a sad, tight smile. “Thanks. But I’m not really a war hero.”

He still had something to say, you could tell, but you gave him a firm look that let him know you would rather drop the subject. Steve gave a nod, then put the shield on his back and called the others closer to go through the plan again. 

It was the second time you worked with him but the first time he was in charge, and you had to admit he was really good at giving orders. You had already seen another side of him: a gentle, soft side that seemed so honest and true. Now he was someone else, a part of him that he usually showed to the world. It made you wonder if it was only a facade, a flawless mask he had to adapt, but struggled with it every time he had to put on the shield.  

Working for S.H.I.E.L.D., you had to deal with arms dealers a lot, but they mostly sent you to undercover missions to get information out of people. Part of the reason was that it was your strength, another part was your “inability to cooperate with others” - as Fury worded it. There were exceptions, and this mission was one of them. These people, of course, weren’t trafficking with regular weapons, hence it wasn’t easy to find or ambush them. 

Their defence was strong, but not a match for you and the team. An old, seemingly abandoned building served as their hiding place, with locks only you could hack to get S.H.I.E.L.D. inside. The system broke and with one exception, every door was left open. 

“Why’s that still closed?” Steve asked, pointing on the screen. After you hacked their defence system, you knew you had to be quick.

“Probably has to be opened manually,” you shrugged, adjusting your thigh holsters. “Or it has a detached lock with no access to the others.”

Steve nodded. “Find that room and let me know when you’re there.”

“Yes, Captain,” you saluted, making him roll his eyes at you. 

Getting through the men in the building wasn’t exactly difficult, but Steve’s constant voice held you back. He kept asking for your status and told you whether to go left or right; he didn’t let you to do as you liked and it drove you crazy. This was exactly why you hated to work with a team—there was always someone to give you orders and you had to obey them even when you disagreed. 

_ “Agent Y/L/N, what’s your status?” _ Steve’s quiet voice came through the comms, but this time you were too distracted to get annoyed. Hiding behind a wall, you saw a half-open door, leading into a room full of boxes and weapons. It had to be the one you couldn’t open earlier.

_ “Y/N?” _

_ “I have eyes on the storage room.” _

_ “Guards?” _

_ “Two. Three,” _ you hissed, sighing.  _ “Probably more. I can’t see inside properly. I’m going in,” _ you said, standing up, but Steve’s sudden voice made you crouch down again.

_ “No, you aren’t,” _ he said louder than before. For a few seconds all you heard were gunshots, groans and shouts, but you didn’t wait it out to speak to him.

_ “I’m not going to miss an opportunity like this!” _

_ “Y/N,” _ Steve breathed your name out after he took down the last man in front of him.  _ “Wait for backup. You can’t go in there alone.” _

_ “But—”  _

_ “End of discussion. I’ll be there in a minute.” _

For a short moment, you seriously considered doing as you were told, but that moment passed quickly.  From your hiding place, you shot a man who stood at the door, before approaching the room.

Inside, surrounded with dangerous weapons, they didn’t dare to use their guns against you: one missed shot and they would blow up the entire building. Being more skilled with a knife anyway, it made your situation easier. You were somewhere in the middle, fighting with a man when you heard noises from the back entrance, and you knew that Steve had finally reached the room as well. It didn’t take him long to reach you, easily knocking everyone out of his way. 

You caught his angry eyes as he walked towards you with fast steps while you were still fighting. For a second you thought he was hurrying to help you, but the man was already on the ground, unconscious,  and Steve didn’t slow down. He only stopped when he reached you, grabbing your upper arm firmly, but not enough to hurt, dragging you into a corner and glancing around just to make sure you were safe.

“I think I told you to wait for me.”

His face was red and his brows furrowed, pupils blown wide. Up until that moment, you wouldn’t have thought you would ever see him so angry. It caught you off guard, even scared you a little, but if you had learned one thing then it was to hide your fears.

“And I told you I wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this,” you said, wriggling out of his grasp. “And see, everything went fine. I didn’t put anyone in danger.”

Steve stared at you, bewildered, but was quick to answer. “Except you.”

“But I’m fine. Can we keep moving or we’re staying here until they ambush us?” You made a step, but he cornered you.

“You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. When I told you have to cooperate I meant with all of us.”

You groaned. “Okay! I’m sorry! What else do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. You could’ve just—”

He never finished as you heard a noise and as you whipped your head around, you saw someone shooting at you with a submachine gun. Steve raised his shield to protect you both while he grabbed your wrist, moving you in front of him to cover you with not only his shield but his own body as well. The shooter blew a box full of some kind of gunpowder and even as you reached the exit, you kept running down the corridor. The explosion shook the part of the building where you were in, dust and debris falling down from the ceiling at your heels. 

Soon you reached a safer corridor and you slowed down just a little to catch your breath, but Steve’s hand was still on your forearm. His voice was loud as he shouted through the comms, making sure everyone else was out of the most dangerous areas. He wanted to get the both of you out of the building as soon as it was possible, not noticing the puddle of blood on the floor and pulling you through it. Yelping, you slipped and lost your balance for a second, enough to stumble and nearly fall. 

Steve was quick to catch you before you landed on the floor, but the short moment while he kept running and you were slipping, falling in the opposite direction, he involuntarily pulled on your wrist hard enough to make it seriously hurt. 

At first, he thought it was you who accidentally hurt him, but then he saw you pulling your hand away from him, wrapping your own fingers around your aching wrist with a small hiss. He felt a deep ache he hadn't felt in a while; not as painful as breaking a bone, but somewhat really close. 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Swallowing hard, feeling as if there was a lump in your throat, you looked up at him. “You didn’t. I’m fine.”

Though you sounded honest, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The thought flashed through his brain, making him freeze while his left arm was still around you after catching you. His gaze bore deep into yours and you couldn’t look away, either. You couldn’t hear anything except your own pulse, beating loudly in your ears. 

“We should keep moving.”

Steve’s eyes changed, as if you just snapped him out of his thoughts. He heaved a deep sigh and let go of you while you continued your way out of the base and tried to find the others. You could hardly pay any attention to the team or even Steve while your mind was still racing. 

On the way back home, you chose a quiet corner on the quinjet and pretended to be sleeping, hiding your swollen wrist with your long sleeve. He didn’t try to talk to you and you couldn’t be sure if he knew, but his uncertain, careful glances were telling. Even if he didn’t know, even if he wasn’t sure, you had woken his doubts and you knew it wouldn’t be easy to put them back to sleep. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

During the following week, Steve went through all the stages of grief. 

When he felt the pain in his wrist and he knew he had hurt you at the exact same spot on your body, it was as if someone turned a switch on in his brain that he didn’t even know existed.  The thought quickly flashed through his mind and at the same moment, it made him freeze. Why hadn’t he even considered you before?

The shock was too great to let him speak. It was something Steve had never experienced before: no matter how helpless a situation seemed, he was always quick to react. He forced himself to snap out of it, but it was hard to focus on anything while the throbbing in his wrist constantly reminded him of what had happened. 

His thoughts were still tangled as he stood under the shower, too stunned to try to unknot the messy trails. The warmth helped little to none to relax his tense muscles. He watched as the water washed dirt and someone else’s blood off his skin, trickling down his body and swirling around the tray. Unconsciously, he rubbed his aching wrist with his thumb, even though he wasn’t entirely sure the pain belonged to him. 

With a distant gaze, he stepped out of the shower, dried his body, and dragged his clothes on. There were so many times when feelings overwhelmed him, so much he could barely breathe, but now it was the opposite. He didn’t know how to feel and it confused him; even a little numb. 

It reminded him of his mother’s funeral. Every person who attended cried or at least looked mildly devastated. Long lost relatives, some of her colleagues, friends and neighbours; even the old owner of the store they always went to wept profusely. Not Steve though. He couldn’t even give a reaction because he didn’t feel anything at all. The sea of emotions only found him hours later,  tearing his heart into pieces when the loss of his mother finally sank in.

Picking his shield up, he left the bathroom and walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the Triskelion. The building was deserted at this late hour, and Steve was glad he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He pushed the call button of the elevator and took a deep breath, deciding he would bury himself in paperwork tonight as he had done so many times before. Sometimes it just felt good to have an excuse to push every other thought aside. 

His plan to get you out of his mind was quickly crushed as he found himself face to face with you in the elevator.

Steve watched as your body tensed at the sight of him, straightening yourself while he stepped in. He gave you a tight smile that you returned, keeping his gaze on you a little longer than was necessary. He examined your features, searching for any telltale sign, but he could find nothing. Suddenly, you glanced up at him with those eyes he has grown to love, but didn’t even realize how much up until now. 

That was when he decided to wrap himself into the sweet and comforting blanket of denial. 

He had already learned that you kept many secrets not only because it was necessary for you to survive, but also because you were ashamed about your past. It was obvious you had a lot more to tell. Steve, however, could see no reason why would you lie to him about something like this. He would have given anything to find and be with his soulmate —why would anyone want to keep it quiet?

“Still angry at me?” You asked when the silence was too heavy to bear. 

Steve blinked as you disrupted his thoughts. “What?”

“Well, you know,” you shrugged. “For not following your orders.”

As he released a long breath, the difference was clearly visible in his features. The tension melted off his face; he even gave a tiny smile that was a lot more honest than the one before. 

“At least now I understand why you work alone.”

While you walked through the garage in silence, you could barely breathe. He didn’t look suspicious at all, and yet you couldn’t shake off the ominous feeling, expecting the dreaded question to fall from his lips with every passing second. 

“Do you need a ride home?”

Stopping next to your motorbike, you shook your head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“I hurt your wrist though, didn’t I?”

Maybe it could have been the moment when you confessed, when you told him everything you had been keeping secret for so, so long. Maybe if you had told him then, it wouldn’t have been too late—maybe he would have understood, even. 

But once you started lying, it wasn’t easy to stop.

“No. You didn’t.”

Steve nodded and said goodnight. It couldn’t be you, could you? He had already admitted to himself that he had developed feelings for you, sometimes even hoping his soulmate was you. He wasn’t sure how strong his wish was; perhaps he desired it so much he was just trying to convince himself it was you. 

***

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re a thousand miles away.”

Steve snapped his head up with a silent gasp, looking at Sam who sat in the armchair with slightly raised eyebrows. Now that his friend’s voice pulled him out of his brooding, Steve felt like he was lost in his thoughts much longer than he could tell.

He forced a weak smile and opened his mouth, but the lie never came. The weight of nearly a century of uncertainty, the feeling of being helpless fell upon his shoulders, making him feel exhausted. He slumped back, leaning back against the couch. 

“No. Not really.”

The past few days had been tough. Steve isolated himself as he always did in a similar situation, not entirely knowing how to cope with his emotions. He sought solace, but the comforting feeling avoided him. 

One night he woke up from a dream. He didn’t remember much—he could only grasp one little picture and an ethereal feeling. You, wrapped in his arms, head on his chest while you slept peacefully. He played with your hair and you hummed quietly in content. He chased it even when he was awake, longing to experience the same for real. It made his heart feel painfully full and empty at the same time. 

As the minutes passed and the more distant the dream seemed, it set something off in him he wasn’t prepared to.

_ It had to be you, _ he thought while he threw the blanket off his sweat-covered body and left the apartment in the middle of the night. He wasn’t even sure where he was going until he ended up in a gym, ruining a few punching bags until the sun came up and his energy slowly left him.  _ How could it be a coincidence? _ He still had many questions, too many holes in the story that needed to be filled, but the more he thought of it, the more certain he was that you were his soulmate. 

And it made him angry.

Steve understood why you didn’t like to talk about your past, but this was different. Being soulmates wasn’t only your secret; it was something that greatly affected his life as well. Did it mean so little to you that you hadn’t even considered he deserved to know the truth? If you wanted to do nothing with him, it was your decision. But it made him furious to think you lied to him in the face multiple times, caring nothing about the fact that he still didn’t know who his soulmate was. 

His rage had come and gone and he found himself in Sam’s house after a late night run. He wasn’t sure why he went there—did he really want to talk about what had happened or did he just need to see a friendly face, but he was eternally thankful Sam let him in without a question. He asked if he was okay; Steve’s storming emotions evident on his face, but he didn’t press. 

When Sam asked the question again, Steve didn’t feel strong enough anymore to lie.

Giving a sympathetic smile, Sam stood up and grabbed two bottles of beer from his fridge. Steve thanked him and fell silent once more, scratching the label off the cold bottle. A long minute later, he took a deep breath, downed his drink, before he told Sam everything. In medias res—he started in the middle, then added every tiny detail he had found and put together in the last couple days. Once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. 

Sam listened to him carefully without interrupting him, letting him getting everything off his chest. When he had no more left to say, they both stayed silent for a while.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

Steve shrugged. “No. I mean—it could be a coincidence. But there are just too many of them, don’t you think?”

“Have you thought about asking her?”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a short, breathy laugh. “I guess I’m just too scared of the answer.”

Sam frowned. “Wait. You don’t want her to be your soulmate? Isn’t she the girl you gushed about to me a couple weeks ago?”

“I didn’t—” Steve started, trying to deny, but seeing Sam’s arched eyebrow, he heaved a sigh and shook his head. “If you asked me a week ago, I’d have said yes. I wanted her. But now… Sam, if she is my soulmate, it means she already knows and chose not to tell me.”

“How could you know that?”

“A month ago we were on a mission together. I got shot. She removed the bullet. She had to have felt everything,” Steve said, the thought making his heart ache. You had gone through so much pain without showing any sign of it. “If she is my soulmate, she’s known for a month for sure. But probably even longer.” 

They fell silent once more, but Steve didn’t mind it. He didn’t expect Sam to solve his problems, he didn’t even expect any advice; he mostly just needed someone to talk to about it. A few days of isolation with his thoughts wasn’t really healthy: his mind wandered to places that even scared his own self. 

“Maybe it’s my fault.” 

“What? Steve…”

“When we first met, I wasn’t really friendly with her,” he said. “I just kept suspecting she was hiding something.”

“Which is probably true.”

Steve sighed and put his empty bottle down. “I still can’t stop thinking… what if I was kinder? What if I didn’t push her to tell me her secrets? Maybe she would have told me willingly. Maybe I drove her away.”

“Look,” Sam started, leaning closer. “There’s absolutely no need to punish yourself. Whatever happened, you can’t blame yourself for a decision she made. And it’s still possible you’re wrong, isn’t it? She must be as old as you by now. Is that possible?”

Steve glanced down. The answer to this question would give him the truth. Was it possible? He had tried to deny it at first, but then he remembered what you had told him about those sleeper agents. Perhaps the K.G.B. had done the same with you.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Talk to her,” Sam said quietly. “You can’t solve this by yourself. And you don’t even have to.”

***

Steve thought a lot about Sam’s words in the next couple of days. Every time he passed you in the corridors, every time he stopped to talk to you a few words, the question was on the tip of his tongue. He felt his pulse beating in his ears as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to talk to you, but he was deadly scared of the answer. What if you’d look at him like he was crazy because he misunderstood the signs? Or worse—what if it was you but you would keep lying? And his greatest fear that seemed too terrible to even think of it: what if you admitted it was you, but had simply chosen not to be with him?

His own thoughts made him feel more miserable than he had felt in a very long time. Steve wondered, while he sat across from you in the noisy cafeteria, if you knew that he suspected you were his soulmate. Perhaps you did, and you just didn’t care at all. It seemed so unlikely to him. He had always had strong emotions for his soulmate, even when he had no idea it was you. Did you not feel the endless yearning? 

Maybe he had put you so much pain through the years you couldn’t bear to look at him in that way anymore.

In his final despair, Steve remembered he had one more chance to learn the truth without asking you. Two, actually—he knew if he hurt himself willingly he could see your reaction, but he couldn’t bear the thought of causing you any pain. 

The idea formed in his head after he returned from a mission with the Avengers. Tony joked something about he looking like a kid whose lollipop had been taken. Bruce was helping Clint who was bleeding from all the cuts he had sustained. Steve made sure everyone was fine, not realizing that he was left alone with Natasha in the quinjet until he heard her voice.

“Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking a little disoriented. He had been a mess in the past week, although he never allowed his mind to wander while he was on a mission.

He followed Nat into the Tower, his thoughts racing. She was talking about something he was not paying any attention to, the question begging to blurt out of him with every passing second. 

“Nat,” he cut her off then, feeling as if his heart wanted to burst through his ribcage. There was no one around them in the corridor, but they could hear distant voices. “How old are you?”

She arched an eyebrow. “That’s not a nice thing to ask of a woman, Rogers.”

Steve sighed. Her words made his excitement turn into anger in no time. “I’m not in the mood for jokes. When you were born?”

“Do you want to throw me a birthday party?” She joked, but seeing his stern features, she stopped smiling. “I can’t see why is that so important to you suddenly.”

The words barely left her lips when it dawned on her, and she couldn’t hide the surprise from her face. Nat swallowed thickly. She considered lying, playing dumb, but what was the point? If Steve asked the question, he probably already had a hunch about the answer.

“In 1928.”

Steve felt as if all of his strength left him. His mouth fell open and he released a long breath, a wave of dizziness swamping him. Natasha and you had both confirmed you grew up together in Russia. If she was born in 1928, it meant you had to be the same age as her—give or take a few years. He leaned his back against the wall, feeling like his legs couldn’t support his weight anymore. 

“How is that possible?” Steve asked without lifting his gaze from the floor.

“I was… there was a place called the Red Room—”

“I know that story,” Steve cut her off once more, starting to lose his patience. “Y/N had already told me about it. She just forgot to mention the part where you two are actually immortal.”

Nat let out an annoyed sigh. It actually surprised her you told him about the Red Room, but she tried not showing it. “We aren’t immortal. We got injected with a serum… something similar to what you had been given. It was created to keep us young and pretty.” She gave a cynical smile, before she added, “We do age though. Just very slowly.”

When Steve finally raised his head, Nat saw a look in his eyes she had never seen before—not in his, not in anyone else’s. A mix of sadness and anger, but somehow so far beyond the two, too deep to rage or cry. It silently tore him apart from the inside, piece by piece. 

“Did you know about it?” He asked quietly, but didn’t wait for her answer. “Of course you did. Has it crossed your mind that maybe you could have told me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Steve held her gaze for a while, chewing the inside of his cheek, before he looked away again. 

“How long has she known?”

“Steve…”

“What? There’s no point in lying anymore. I know it’s her. I just want to know how long she’s been keeping it from me. Along with you.”

Nat raised her voice. “What should I have done? She asked me not to tell you. Should I have run to you and tell you everything? She’s my friend.”

“I thought I was too.”

“You are,” Nat said, her voice softening. “But as I said, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Steve stayed quiet. Natasha’s words hurt more than he thought they would; she had confirmed his greatest fear . You really had chosen to keep the truth from him. The last string of hope he clung onto broke, and now everything he had been trying to deny, to push away from his mind fell upon his shoulders with an unbearable weight. 

As everything fell into place slowly, he remembered all the pain he had felt when he was young. It wasn’t foreign to him. Steve had to watch his father hurting his mother so many times, sometimes having a first-hand experience from his “tough-love”.  For long, he used to think his soulmate went through something similar. Now he knew it was something else, something even worse. 

He had imagined meeting his soulmate a thousand times before. He had always dreamed about happy scenarios, clichéd reunions that only happened in cheesy romance books and movies. Steve didn’t realize how ridiculous his daydreams were until now. He thought back to the first time you had met, clearly remembering how emotionless you looked. Those cold eyes had softened since then, but it did not change the fact that you still kept lying to him.

Nat leaned against the wall from across Steve, before she started to speak quietly. “She told me she had a soulmate back in the 30’s. Of course, she didn’t know it was you. She learned it after they found you in the ice. She didn’t tell me that though. Not until I pulled it out of her.”

He turned to her. “How could she keep it a secret? In the Red Room? From what she’d told me, your… handlers weren’t exactly lenient. And I…” Steve trailed off, the thought making another hole in his heart. “I guess I caused her a lot of pain.”

Nat opened her mouth, before she quickly closed it back. Steve words reminded her of a memory, when you had nearly fainted from the intense pain that she now knew was when Steve had gotten the serum. Another one, when his painful lungs or aching heart threw you off balance, and you having no choice but to stay silent and accept your punishment. Long nights when you cried yourself to sleep, Natasha giving you her blankets to try to ease the burning of the cold.

“She’s really strong,” Nat said simply, deciding not to tell him more than it was necessary. 

“So… while I was in the ice…”

“She thought you were dead.”

Tears blurred his vision, but he didn’t let them fall. Steve remembered how it felt when he woke up first in 2012, thinking he had lost his soulmate for good. It was the kind of heartache he had never felt before, not even when he was young and sickly. His grief only lasted for two weeks though; yours for nearly seventy years. He closed his eyes and silently begged, hoping that at least you didn’t feel any physical pain while he was buried in the ice. 

“Why?” Steve’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, sounding strange and distant even to him. “Did I do something wrong to her?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. You two are just the same.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, but remained silent.

“She had a reason not to tell you. I’m not saying it’s a good reason, but… maybe you’d understand. But it’s really not for me to tell.”

“Yeah. She had a reason,” Steve muttered under his breath. He didn’t feel angry or disappointed; he felt only sadness. Whatever your reasons were to keep the truth from him, you saw them as a better option than telling him, finally getting a chance to be with him. 

It took him a week to realize he had lost you even before he had a chance to have you 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Natasha was afraid to tell you that Steve had learned the truth. She knew you’d start asking questions and then she would have no other choice but to admit that she was the one who confirmed his suspicions. Would you feel betrayed? She had promised she wouldn’t say a word to Steve, but now she felt responsible that he knew you were his soulmate. 

Her heart was racing when she left her bedroom the next morning, but she couldn’t find you in the apartment. Your sudden disappearance made her frown; Nat usually knew when you went on a mission. She waited three days making the first call, but she couldn’t reach you for another two days. She couldn’t stop thinking that maybe you did something really stupid; after all, she had already seen how you reacted when it came to Steve. 

After several failed attempts, when she seriously started to worry, you finally called her back. 

“Y/N? Where are you? Are you okay?” She asked after she saw your name on the screen, immediately picking up the phone. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just got a job and I had to leave quickly. Sorry.”

Natasha noticed the tiny change in your voice that maybe only she could hear, but she didn’t comment on it. She knew you were lying to her, maybe you knew that too, but it didn’t sound like you were in danger so she decided to leave you alone. Perhaps you just needed some time away from everything—she couldn’t blame you for that. 

Two weeks after your short conversation, Nat finally heard the clinking of your keys as you opened the lock of the front door. She stood from the kitchen table and stopped in the middle of the living room as you walked in, unharmed and seemingly completely fine. 

“I need to talk to you,” you blurted out without saying hello, worry mixed in your serious expression.

Nat furrowed her brows but followed you, settling down next to you on the couch. Now that she was closer, she could see how tired your eyes were. She watched as you fiddled with the end of your sleeves, avoiding her gaze. _What had you gotten yourself into?_

“Are you okay?”

She seemed genuinely concerned, but you ignored her question. _No, of course I am not okay._ Pictures of the past weeks flashed down before your eyes and you took a deep breath, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. 

“I went after him.”

“After who?” Nat asked, but she didn’t need to wait for an answer. As you slowly looked at her, it quickly dawned on her. “Y/N… Tell me you didn’t…”

“I had to,” you said as firmly as you could despite feeling so weak. “After I saw that sleeper agent… after I killed him… I couldn’t forget about him and the rest of them. I tried to talk to S.H.I.E.L.D. to give me some information, to put me back on the case, but they didn’t. I knew something wasn’t right.” 

“But you said you went specifically after _him_. Not all of them.”

“I’m not sure what happened between the two of you,” you said softly. “But if you fell in love with him, I guess he had to be quite special.” 

A barely visible smile lifted the corner of Nat’s lips, but it disappeared quickly. “But as we both know, I can’t remember that. Y/N, did you really go back to Russia to find him _for me_?”

“No,” you breathed out, a little desperately. “I mean, that too. But I knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping things from me. And I also needed some time to… clear my head.”

Nat cast her eyes down as she suddenly remembered her conversation with Steve, but she figured it could wait now. “And did you find anything?”

“I didn’t. And that’s it,” you said, leaning back against the couch. “I went there. Where they kept them in those cryos. Nat, they are all empty. I’ve talked to so many people I hoped I’d never see again, but I’ve been only chasing cold leads. No one knows anything. No one saw anything. Whoever was behind all of this, they made a really great job at keeping the sleepers what they always were. Ghost stories.”

Nat swallowed hard; you could tell she was on the edge of crying. “Do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about this?”

“They have to,” you nodded. “I still don’t understand why they didn’t send me to find them. It just doesn’t add up.” Staring off into the distance, you shook your head. “Do you know anything about what happened to the sleepers after Karpov died? 

“No. As far as I know, after his death they were kind of… forgotten. Seems like they weren’t.”

“Maybe they were,” you said. “Isn’t it possible someone learned about them, found their activation codes and just… took them?”

Natasha let out a long, shaky breath. “No. The K.G.B. had a protocol to wake them up. It took more than those words. They injected some kind of chemical into them, they used mental stimulation… it was a long process. If you just shook them out of it, it would have unpredictable consequences. They would be completely out of control with no memories at all. All they would have are instincts. And after the training they received… those are not good instincts .”

“How do you know  this?”

“Because I saw it once,” Nat said slowly and watched as terror slowly formed on your face. “Since you told me what you know, I started thinking more and more… and I… I remember a few things now. Not much, though. But I remember that Karpov made me watch as they wiped him and put him into stasis. He gave me some time to live with the knowledge, before they woke him in front of me to see that he didn’t even know who I was. And then they just made me forget all of this.” 

Her words made you speechless and feel disgusted, but you weren’t that surprised. It was their method, after all. It reminded you of one of the girls from the Red Room who was sent on a mission but never returned. She had met someone and fallen in love, hiding in a tiny apartment while she tried to live a normal life far away from Russia. They sent you after her to bring her back, but at the last minute they changed the plan and ordered you to kill her. And without a second thought, you did it. 

“Y/N, I know you’ve been trying to help but… please, don’t. You’re running after someone who might already be dead. And if he’s still alive—he probably doesn’t remember anything of me.”

“It isn’t just about that. They’re out in the world and someone is using them. You know what they’re capable of.” 

“I’m sure S.H.I.E.L.D. is handling the situation.” 

“And do you seriously trust them?”

She held your gaze for a few long moments, before you both glanced away. It was in her blood too, the doubts, but she hoped so much she had finally found something and someone to trust that sometimes she forgot about it. 

“I need to talk to you too,” Nat said quietly after minutes of silence. One look at her was enough for you to know what she wanted to talk about. 

“He knows, right?”

Nat gave you a silent, sympathetic look. After what happened in your last mission, you suspected Steve knew that you were his soulmate. It was one of the reasons why you disappeared for a while—you needed some time alone, to clear your head and not to think of him at all. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to go on a secret, dangerous mission alone, but at least it wasn’t all in vain. 

“I’m not sure how he knew it,” Nat broke the silence. “But he asked me how old I am.” 

“And you told him.” You didn’t want to sound bitter, but it slipped out before you could stop yourself. It made an angry frown appear on Nat’s face. 

“Y/N, I have lied to him for you enough already. He’s my friend, too. What could I have done?”

Closing your eyes, you let out a deep breath. “No I—I know it isn’t your fault. I’m sorry. I just thought… well, I don’t really know what I thought.” Everything that you had buried somewhere deep down in the past weeks had now surfaced on the top; it was like the weight of that knowledge was back on your shoulders. Steve knew, and he didn’t even try to contact you. It hurt, but after all, you couldn’t blame him. 

“Was he… angry?” You asked hesitantly, not completely sure you wanted to know the answer.

Nat hesiated, but she decided you deserved to know the truth. “I think he was way beyond that, to be honest.” 

“Did he say anything at all?” Her words caused you the deepest heartache but you kept asking, wanting to feel the pain you caused to him. It was your fault; you were so afraid of getting hurt that now you had ended up causing pain for the both of you. “Sorry. It’s between you and him. None of my business.” 

“It could be though,” Nat said gently. “Listen, you didn’t want to talk to him because you didn’t want to tell him the truth. But now he knows. Why don't you talk to him now?”

“He values honesty above everything else, doesn’t he? I kept the truth from him for over a year and then I lied to him on his face. How am I supposed to look into his eyes ?”

“I have seen him trying to reason with the worst villains, Y/N,” Nat said. “I think he always seeks the good in people. Don’t think he’s going to judge you for this. And don’t think it’s too late for you.”

Her words could have been encouraging, but you didn’t feel their impact on you. All the little optimism you had once was long gone and you didn’t think anymore that this could end happily. 

The rest of your night went on quietly. Knowing that neither of you would be able to sleep, you stayed in the living room to watch movies, but both of your minds were wandering too far away to pay attention. It was late when Nat’s phone started ringing; the loud buzzing in the quiet night made the both of you jump. 

Late phone calls never meant anything good, and seeing Nat’s confused frown as she watched the name on the screen, it made you even more suspicious. 

“Who is it?”

“Sharon.”

She shrugged and answered the call, and you had to watch as all the colour left her face. You couldn’t recollect the last time you had seen her so scared and she let it be evident on her features. 

“What is it?” You asked as she dropped the phone after the short conversation and jumped from the couch.

“Fury got shot.”

“Wait—what?!”

“In Steve’s apartment.”

“What?!” You stood up now as well, following Nat around as she collected her jacket. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Nick isn’t though.” 

Hastily, you both put on your shoes and left the flat as quickly as you could. It was the longest car ride you had ever had, your mind racing constantly without giving you a break. Nat didn’t care about the red lights while you sped through the city. 

After you had joined S.H.I.E.L.D., aside from Clint, Nick was the only person who never judged you. He put more trust in you than anyone ever had, believing you were more than what the Red Room had made of you. He didn’t give up on you, not even when you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Was it because he needed your skills? Probably, but you knew he genuinely cared about you too. You had already experienced what it was like when someone only wanted to take advantage of you, and this wasn’t like it.

And now you had to watch him dying on a hospital bed. 

Besides the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who had gathered together, there weren't many people in the waiting room. Sitwell and Rumlow were both staying close to the door. Sharon paced up and down, quietly talking to someone on the phone, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of Fury. On many occasions, she was the director’s right hand: he trusted her with jobs he wouldn’t trust anyone else. 

Steve spun around when you stormed in. His gaze lingered on you and you could have sworn you saw some kind of relief in his eyes, but the moment was quickly gone as he turned away. It had been weeks since the last time you had seen each other, and the urge to be close to him was now stronger than ever before. 

Natasha stood between the two of you while you all watched with bated breath as the doctors fought  for Nick’s life. You knew he must be important to Steve as well: he was amongst the first persons he had seen and talked to after he had woken up in this new, for him completely unknown world. 

“Tell me about the shooter.” 

It seemed as though Steve leaned all of his weight on the window sill while he remembered the events of the night. “He’s fast. Strong. Had a metal arm.”

His words made your heart skip a beat. For the second time that night, you witnessed as Nat’s cheeks went completely pale; she even swayed a little on her feet. Above her frightened face, your eyes met with Steve’s, whose gaze said he wasn’t entirely clueless either. 

Maria stepped into the room so quietly that if Natasha hadn’t started to talk to her, maybe you wouldn’t have even noticed her. 

“Ballistics?”

“Three slugs. Completely untraceable.”

“Soviet-made,” Nat said weakly after agent Hill confirmed your fear. 

While you felt as if your heart wanted to break out of your ribcage, you couldn’t even imagine what Nat was going through in those dreadful seconds. She not only had to watch a friend on his deathbed, but also had to accept the fact that this killer was a man she used to love once. Perhaps she still did; she barely remembered more than feelings and small pieces of their shared past. Those scientists could wipe many things out of your brain, some even permanently, but love was something that was beyond their knowledge.

When the doctors announced the time of death, or maybe even sooner, you decided you were going to find out whoever was responsible for all of this. 

Stepping closer to Nat, you rubbed her arm comfortingly, but whipped your head around as you heard the door opening and closing. You could only catch a small glimpse of Steve, before he disappeared. 

“Go after him,” she said, her voice hoarse. Before you could argue, she had left you and walked towards Sharon, who looked even more miserable than anyone in the room. 

After a few minutes of searching, you found Steve in the park behind the hospital; he stood under the dim, orange light of the lamppost, hands on his hips and head bowed. The sky was pitch black and cloudy; there were no stars shining in the dark night. The temperature dropped, making you shiver in the thin jacket you had chosen to wear. 

“Are you okay?”

Steve turned around, almost surprised to see you there, watching you for a few seconds in complete silence. In those never-ending moments, a million thoughts flashed through his mind; all the different scenarios he had imagined about how your first meeting would go after he had learned that you were his soulmate. Should he shout and get angry, leave you without a word, or maybe smile and wrap you into a warm hug? He felt too exhausted to do either of them, if he was honest. 

“No. I’m not,” he said and plopped down on the bench. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs while he stared at the ground. 

Carefully, you stepped closer and sat down next to him, but deciding to keep your distance. After what had happened, you weren’t entirely sure he wanted you to be there.

“He was one of them, wasn’t he? A sleeper agent.” Steve quickly connected the dots, recognizing a sleeper agent after he had already seen one before. 

“He wasn't just one of them,” you said quietly, making him look up at you. A light frown creased his forehead, the tears he hadn’t let fall still shimmering in his eyes. “He was the _first_ of them. Everything the other sleepers know… and many things _I_ know, we had learned from him. They call him the Winter Soldier.” 

“Great,” Steve muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry at the situation. “How many more of them?”

“Six,” you nodded. “Five, since I’ve already killed one.”

“Do you have any idea where they could be?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked away from him. You didn’t want him to get involved in this, but it was time to start being honest with him.

“I had,” you said, turning back to him. “I was in Russia the past few weeks. Talked to a few old contacts and I found the place where they had kept them. Those cryostasis chambers I told you about; well, they weren’t there.”

“You went there _alone_?” Steve asked, seemingly ignoring the rest of what you had said. 

“I had to,” you replied firmly. “I had to. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t tell me anything. I know it shouldn’t be personal, but it is.”

“But why did you have to go alone to a place like that? To go _back_ where—”

“It’s okay, Steve, I’m fine. It isn’t like I could tell anyone what I was planning to do.”

“You could have told me,” he said quietly. “I would have gone with you, if you had asked me to.” Steve felt sad, disappointed even. He understood why you couldn’t tell it to anyone else, but he hoped you would have trusted him enough with something like this.

As if you had just read his thoughts, you gave him a gentle smile. “It’s not about that. Your face is well-known everywhere. I needed to do this as quietly as I could.”

Steve held your gaze for a while, before he leaned against the backrest and stared into the distance. He couldn’t believe you—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he felt like you didn’t have any faith in him at all. 

“Sharon said Nick got shot in your apartment,” you broke the silence. “Why was he there in the first place?”

Steve hesitated as Fury’s last words echoed in his head, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pendrive. “He gave me this,” he said while you took and examined the small device. “Told me S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised and that I shouldn’t trust anyone.” 

You shook your head. “I wish I was surprised.”

“You aren’t?”

“The way they’ve been putting me on and off some cases is a little sketchy, don’t you think? They’re keeping too many secrets from someone at my level. I’ve been suspecting something wasn’t right but I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

Steve was silent. One of the reasons he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. was because he thought it would help him to get back into the world, but long months passed and quite often, he still felt disconnected. It helped him little to none in fitting in, and on top of everything, he had to realize that maybe he wasn’t even fighting on the right side. The only positive outcome of this could have been _you_ , but considering you weren’t keen to tell him the truth, Steve thought it was just another disaster.

“If Fury told you that S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised and that you shouldn’t trust anyone,” you started, giving him back the pendrive. “Then why are you telling me all of this?”

Steve’s eyes were on the device, slowly spinning it between his fingers. He hid it deep in the pocket of his jeans, before he looked at you. 

“You know why.”

His gaze was so deep and so intense, it was getting harder to stand it with every passing second. The longer he kept those mesmerizing blue eyes on you, the closer it brought you to crying. Releasing a long, shuddering breath, you turned away. 

“It doesn’t mean you should trust me.” 

Steve sighed. Even now, you worked so hard on keeping yourself so distant and he didn’t, he couldn’t understand it.  “Why haven’t you told me?”

Still gazing into the distance rather than looking at him, you bit down on your bottom lip to stop its trembling. Steve felt the pain on his own and he wished he could stop you, but it was gone when you opened your mouth to speak. 

“Does it matter now?”

“Yes, it does,” he said firmly, and you gathered your strength to look at him. “It does, because I don’t understand why you kept it from me for so long. Because if I look back… ever since I’ve realized I have a soulmate, I have wanted to find _you_. Because I know what I feel, what I’ve always been feeling, even when I had no idea who you were. And I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought my soulmate would feel the same way about me.”

Steve then learned that he could feel your emotional pain just as well as he felt any cuts and bruises, scratches and broken bones. The deep ache that gripped his heart while tears rolled down on your cheeks made him wish he could stop this madness, once and for all. The painful feeling in his chest reminded him of a poem he had read a couple months ago, still trying to catch up on everything he had missed.  

_i carry your heart with me (i carry it in_

_my heart) i am never without it (anywhere_

_i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done_

_by only me is your doing, my darling)_

While you cried, your face remained nearly unreadable. “So you think I don’t?”

“I don’t know what to think, Y/N,” Steve said. “All I know is that you knew the truth but you chose to keep it from me.”

Drying your wet cheeks with the end of your sleeves, you took a deep breath. “You know what was the only thing I felt when I learned I had a soulmate? Fear. I was scared because I knew neither of us would come out of this happily. I knew that they would either kill me for having a weakness like this or do the same to you. Or maybe use you against me. They never found out, though. You were my little secret. My beacon of hope.” You stopped for a second; the pain in his eyes making you wish you had chosen your words more carefully. You didn’t mean to make him feel guilty. “I’ve never had anything except you, and even when I was numb, I felt you. Like I’ve always had you. Then, in 1945, when you crashed that plane… I thought you had died. That tiny bit of hope I had disintegrated and I found myself all alone. I had nothing left to care for and I accepted that my only place in the world was there. In the Red Room.”

Clenching his jaw, Steve cast his eyes down. “I’m sorry. I never meant to put you through all of this.”

“It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you,” you said, shifting a little closer. “If anything, I’m glad you weren’t there while I was working for the K.G.B. It saved you a few decades of pain.”

Steve tried to smile, but he couldn’t. “But if you don’t blame me, I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

You waited for him to look up at you again before you started to speak. “It’s not a coincidence that I’m still alive. I had to fight with the other girls tooth and nail to survive, and I did. I killed them if I had to. If they had told me to kill Nat, I’d have probably done it.”

“I know what you’re trying to show,” Steve cut you off. “What you’re trying to make me believe you are. That’s not you.” 

“Steve, I told you all of this to explain I’m not the kind of person you’d choose. If you knew half of the things I’ve done—”

“But I don’t need to,” he said, sitting closer until his leg was only an inch from yours. “Y/N, I’m not going to judge you because of something you did while you were there. They brainwashed you. They had been messing with your head since you were a child! They made you think what you were doing was the right thing and that, that was what you had to do. They just used you.”

“I know but—Steve, you don’t understand. It went on for _so long_. And even if I didn’t do it willingly, I still did it. And yes, I’m trying to leave it behind, but it’s been years and I’m still trying to figure myself out. And sometimes I feel it will always be a part of me.”

“So you didn’t tell me because…” 

“Because… when I learned it was you… God, I couldn’t believe it. I thought… well, everyone considers you the most honorable man in the world, right? I just couldn’t stop thinking what Captain America would say if he knew his soulmate was one of the most dangerous assassins in the world.” 

Steve heaved a long sigh. He felt a heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders, because it wasn’t him; it wasn’t because you would never want him. “Well, maybe he would be a little confused and torn. Me though, I’m just glad I’ve finally found you.” 

A few tears fell again, and you let out a skeptical laugh. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Why, Y/N? We’re soulmates. Why is it so hard to believe that I want to be with you?”

“Because no one has ever wanted me that way.”  

The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, either. Steve still remembered the days when women would never even look at him twice, then, suddenly, he had all eyes on him. He couldn’t lie—for a very short time, he had enjoyed the bright smiles, the happy squeals and the quiet giggles, but he quickly realized that this kind of attention was empty and disposable. No one wanted to know who Steve Rogers was, the guy underneath the uniform who still liked to draw and watch cartoons and who still longed for something permanent. 

“I do,” Steve said. “Listen, I still don’t really understand what this means, to be soulmates, but I know that the closer I am to you, the more content I feel. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way. And if you feel something even remotely close to this… I think you shouldn’t throw it away.”

“I don’t want to throw it away,” you almost whispered, wiping away another tear that escaped. It was very rare that someone saw you cry, but you realized you didn’t even want to hide from him. “It’s just—it shouldn’t be so hard, should it?”

“It’s not that complicated,” Steve said gently. His leg brushed against yours and your honest smile made him feel bold; he carefully took your hand that you rested between your knees, but didn’t hold it too tightly in case you wanted to pull away. He felt his stomach drop when you jerked your arm back, but a moment later, before he even had time to catch his breath, you pulled him into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. 

It caught Steve off guard, but once he returned the gesture and enveloped you in his arms, he felt like he didn’t want to let go of you ever again. 

“I don’t want to throw it away,” you repeated, burying your face into his neck. His skin was warm despite the coolness of the night. “Steve, I’m so sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I didn’t want you.”

“It’s okay. You have me.”

You squeezed him closer, letting out a little sound which was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Are you seriously not angry at me?”

Steve hesitated. He gently rubbed your back, hands slipping to grasp your upper arms, giving you a gentle push, but he felt like you had glued yourself to him. When you finally pulled back so he could look into your eyes, he cupped your face between both of his hands. You could never put into words how good his touch felt, so warm and so very comforting. His cheeks glistened from a few stray tears and you brought your hand up to wipe them away. 

“I’m not angry at you. I was, but… I understand why you did what you did.”

Closing your eyes, you pressed your forehead against his. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never meant to cause even more pain to you… You deserved better.” 

Long hours passed while you sat there, talking about all the lost years. While you both felt somewhat relieved, there was a dark cloud looming over your heads neither of you could ignore. It was like the calm before the storm. A promise of something dreadful haunted you, a bomb ready to explode. But of course, perhaps you were just being a little paranoid. After everything you had been through, blessed moments like these felt too good to be true. 

The temperature dropped with the approaching sunrise, causing you to squeeze closer to Steve. The sky was still dark, but it slowly started turning to grey. Loud chirping of birds filled the empty, quiet dawn. That was how Nat found you, with your head resting on Steve’s shoulder, grasping one of his hands between both of yours. 

“I hate to be the one to interrupt this,” she started as she reached you. Her eyes were red from crying, an angry frown creasing her brow. “I heard Sitwell on the phone. Pierce wants to see you back at the headquarters,” she said, nodding at Steve.

You looked at him while you both stood up, tilting your head. “Why do I have the feeling this conversation isn’t going to end well?”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Steve sighed. “You think I shouldn’t go?”

You narrowed your eyes, thinking. “No. I think you should go. Maybe you’ll learn something,” you stopped, giving him a playful smile. “I have no doubt you could get yourself out of the situation if it comes to that.”

“Okay, what the hell are you two talking about?”

Steve turned to you with a worried glance. 

“You can trust her,” you nodded, and it was all the push he needed. He trusted Natasha, but he had his doubts since what happened with Fury. 

While you filled Nat in on the details, she listened carefully. You could see the changes in her features, having more and more questions neither of you could give an answer to yet. While Steve was still talking, your eyes found something in the distance above Nat's shoulders; someone in a familiar black uniform, walking closer to you with confident steps.

“Don’t turn around. Rumlow is coming here.”

Steve clenched his jaw and reached into his pocket, giving you the pendrive. “Keep it for me while I’m back at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I’m going back too,” you said, giving it to Nat. “Maybe you could take a day off.”

“Why? What do you want to do?” Steve asked in a choked voice, though Rumlow was still out of earshot. 

“I need to check something.” 

Steve gave you a desperate look, ready to argue, so you quickly went on. “There’s no time. I’m gonna tell you everything.” 

“Fine,” he breathed out, grudgingly. It didn’t feel right to let you go, but he knew you; trying to convince you would be only a waste of time. “We have an Avengers secure line. Can you sneak my earpiece out of my apartment?” Steve asked, but seeing your raised eyebrows, almost offended it was even a question, he didn’t wait for an answer. “You can call Nat on that.” 

Nat gave a nod and walked away, stopping Rumlow in his tracks to buy you a little time. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Tell me you’re not planning to do something stupid,” Steve said in a pained voice, stepping a little closer.

“I’m not,” you smiled reassuringly, closing the distance to give him a hug. Anxiety washed over you and you knew he must have been feeling the same way. “We’ll be fine.” 

When you pulled back, he gave you a small, promising smile. _It will happen_ , Sam said once. _It will work out._ Steve hadn’t believed him then, he couldn’t anymore. But now, after the first time in a very long time, he had hope. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh... please don't hate me too much

It was strange to walk into the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters like it was any other day, knowing there was a bomb ready to explode. Every face now looked suspicious, leaders and janitors alike. Pretending that everything was fine and that you knew nothing was no problem for you. It had always been your job, after all; hiding and lying was second nature to you. The fact that you never had many friends only made it easier; there was only a tiny group of people you kept close. Nat, who had been at your side since forever. Nick, in spite of having many secrets, he had always made it very clear which side he was on. Clint, because without him you’d be either dead, still in Russia or behind bars. The choice he made that day spoke for him way louder than any word could.

 And, for obvious reasons, Steve.

While everything was on fire around you and you still had many things to figure out, you knew, with absolute certainty, that he would always be there for you. He wouldn’t betray you. He wouldn’t lie to you. And despite what you did, he would be honest with you, no matter what. 

Thinking of him made your heart leap painfully, overwhelming you with the feeling of it. But you knew you couldn’t allow such emotions, not now, not here.

“Agent 13, looking good today,” you said to Sharon when you passed by each other in the corridor, not stopping but slowing your steps down.

“Why, thank you! You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied with only a tiny hint of confusion on her face.

“Should we grab a coffee? I know a cute barista I’m sure you’d like.” 

Sharon accepted the invitation and only fifteen minutes later, you were sitting at the coffee shop down the corner, waiting for her. While you had tried to act as casual as possible, you couldn’t shake the feeling off like you were running out of time.

“If he’s the cute barista you were talking about,” Sharon said as she draped her jacket over the chair, sitting down. “I’m not impressed.”

You gave her a sad smile. “I need your help.”

Sharon sighed while her features slowly turned more serious, wiping off the expressions she had on earlier. Obviously, she noticed something wasn’t right; you seemed too chipper considering what had happened the previous night. Grief and lack of sleep was more evident on her than it was on you; no makeup could hide the dark circles under her eyes.

“Shoot.”

“I need to find a target of S.H.I.E.L.D’s.” Leaning closer, you turned your voice down just a little. The place was crowded in the morning hours: the noise did the job for you. “It’s classified and hacking now wouldn’t be really safe. I have to do this as quietly as I can.”

“Okay…” she said a little uncertainty, narrowing her eyes. “Y/N, do you know something?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. Look, I understand if you don’t want to get involved in this—”

“No, it’s okay,” she cut you off, agreeing without a second thought. You weren’t sure how much Fury had told her, but knowing how much he had trusted her, he had probably let her in at least a little.  “I’ll help. Who are we looking for?”

“Rodchenko,” you said, before spelling the name. Sharon was a level above you, hence she had access for many more files than you. 

“First name?”

“I don’t know that.”

“Well, there probably aren’t many people with his name. Who is he?”

“An ex-Red Room scientist,” you said. “When we joined S.H.I.E.L.D., Nat and I, we gave a few names, including his. I never asked what happened to him. To be honest, I was happy not hearing of anything that was happening around anyone I used to know.”

Sharon leaned back in the chair with a smile as she got her coffee, taking a sip before she spoke again. “What was he doing there? In the Red Room?”

“Brainwashing was his speciality,” you said. “He was one of the last ones I had the pleasure of meeting.”

She let out a long breath, shaking her head. “Okay, what am I missing here? What does he have to do with anything going on with S.H.I.E.L.D. right now?”

“Hopefully we can get the answer to this question soon.”

Quickly finishing your drink, you stood up to leave the coffee shop, but you had barely stepped out on the streets when the pain stopped you. It was nothing serious at first, even though it hurt, your fear was bigger than anything physical you felt. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sharon watching you curiously, but you only fastened your pace in the busy streets.

Until you couldn’t. 

The pain was too intense and too much to bear, to the point where you couldn’t hide your reactions anymore. Before that day, you had no other choice but to wait it out, wishing it would end soon, but things had changed. Now you knew it was Steve who shared your pain and the secrets were revealed to him as well. There was nothing stopping you from helping him, and damn, you wanted nothing more than to rescue him from whatever was happening right now. 

On the other hand, you knew that leaving him alone would probably be the safest choice. Being soulmates with your lifestyle was dangerous, it always had been, even when you didn’t know anything about one another. The fact that now you were getting closer to each other only made it worse. How long until someone would use him against you or the other way around? You had to continue to keep it quiet for the sake of the other’s safety. 

Grabbing Sharon’s arm, you pulled her into the alley to hide from curious eyes.

“What the…” The words died on her lips watching you, bent double with pain while you silently begged Steve to escape from whatever situation he had gotten himself into. 

Sharon kept asking if you were okay or if there was anything she could do, but you firmly let her know not to call anyone and you’d be fine soon. 

When it finally seemed to be over, you straightened, leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. “We have to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Y/N,” Sharon said your name sharply, blocking your way as you wanted to storm out of the alley. “I agreed to help you and I really, really want to. But I can’t do that if you keep secrets from me.”

Sharon didn’t seem like a bad person but you still had a question mark next to her name. How much could you trust her? Nick did, and that should have given you the answer, but you were still uncertain, even when the words left your lips. You had asked for her help for a reason, but you could only hope you made the right choice. 

“Steve is my soulmate,” you said, watching as her eyes slowly went wide. “Sharon, you can’t tell anyone.”

“No—no, of course, but…” She trailed off, startled from what you just told her. “What does it mean? Is he hurt?”

You released a trembling breath. “Yes. It’s S.H.I.E.L.D. Please, we have to go back now.”

Confused and having even more questions than she had before, Sharon nodded before you walked out onto the crowded streets again. Once more, you had to continue acting like everything was fine, like you didn’t know anything about Steve, like you didn’t worry yourself to death not even knowing whether he was fine or not, captured or free. 

You didn’t have to wait much longer to get an answer for your question. The news was everywhere, spreading like wildfire within the building. Steve Rogers was a wanted man. 

Sharing a quick glance with Sharon, you listened to people’s whispers, but it didn’t seem like they knew much more about what had happened. To avoid suspicion, you ways parted for the next half an hour. It was crazily nerve-wracking, knowing nothing about Steve. You secretly wished Nat would show up, giving some explanation, but it was just your worries speaking. Coming here wouldn’t be safe to her either and you hoped you could get out of here as quickly as possible as well. 

After what seemed like an eternity, you met Sharon in a busy and loud common area of the Triskelion. Crowded places and the fact that most eyes were on Steve now helped to draw the attention from you.

“He’s in cell 354,” she said, handing you the dossier. His report was conspicuously short. It said S.H.I.E.L.D. had found him just a couple months after you had told them about him, hiding and trying to live in peace in the states. He had a family and a seemingly normal life. There was only a description about his capture and not even a mention of any interrogation. 

“Should we pay him a visit?”

You closed the files and gave it back to Sharon. “No. I go alone.” 

“What? Y/N,” Sharon stepped closer, turning her voice down. “I don’t know what’s going on but if it has anything to do with Nick’s death, I want to help.” 

“You’ve already helped a lot. There aren’t many people we can trust and we need you here.”

Sharon heaved a sigh. She wanted to be there and stop whatever was about to happen, but she also understood that staying in the background now might be a bigger help. She was a good spy, undoubtedly one of the best; you knew she would have no problem with playing the double agent. A little reluctantly, she agreed and let you go.

You weren’t sure how much time you had left before someone would notice your rather suspicious behaviour, but you didn’t need much. The plan was easy: find Rodschenko and question him. Quite honestly it surprised you that he was a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D.: you thought they never bothered trying to find him. At least it made your situation easier; you didn’t have to chase him around the world. 

Only thinking of the man disgusted you deeply, but while your skin prickled uncomfortably thinking about the conversation you were about to have, you knew he was afraid of you now that you were conscious and fully aware of your own actions. 

The guards let you through the door without any questions; it wasn’t rare that you passed these halls for interrogation purposes. No one questioned your presence, no one asked who you were looking for and why.

When you started talking to the man behind the bars of the cell no 354, you immediately got an answer to your question. 

Rodchenko, cruel as he was, was a smart man. You could never be sure how much the K.G.B. forced him to do what he did and how much he acted of his own free will, but he never seemed to hesitate too much before using anything that was necessary against you. They never messed with his head; his brain was too valuable for that. He was as sane as someone like him could be.

The man in front of you was nothing like him. His features were similar to the professor, but his voice that had etched itself into your brain was completely different. He was crazy, to say the least, laughing and babbling and screaming the most impossible things. He showed no sign of knowing you at all. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t Rodchenko. 

Upon leaving the prison, you noticed the glances and whispers from the guards, but kept your steps slow and your face completely neutral. You had barely stepped out of the elevator when you felt a hand on your left arm, tightly gripping you. 

“They’re looking for you,” Sharon said quietly, before turning her voice up to normal. “Will you come with me quietly?”

You stifled a smile. “I will.”

Her grip stayed strong around your forearm while she pushed you forward, standing close enough that she could talk quietly to you. “Could you speak with him?”

“Yes. And no. It wasn’t him.”

Sharon tried her best to hide her frown while she led you through the hall. “What do you mean? They got the wrong person?”

“Or they’re covering for him,” you said. “I have to find Steve.”

“Okay,” Sharon breathed out. “Let’s give them a little show, shall we?”

Without hesitation, you reached over with your free arm and braced yourself on her shoulder, kneeling her in the stomach just enough to make it believable. Her hold loosened around your arm so you could free yourself, but she was quick to react and gave you a punch that made you falter. From the corner of your eye, you saw agents hurrying towards you so you quickly ended the fight by throwing Sharon over your shoulder, before rushing out of the hall. Getting rid of S.H.I.E.L.D. was almost too easy, but you got out of the Red Room alive for a reason. 

As you suspected, they guarded Steve’s apartment quite heavily, but you only had to take one of them out and easily sneaked past the others to get the earpiece he told you about. 

But for another long hour that seemed like an eternity, you couldn’t reach them. There was only radio silence and you started doubting the little thing worked. It made you feel helpless. You couldn’t just go and try finding them because you had no idea where they could be. There was nowhere to go. The only people you trusted were the ones you couldn’t contact. 

For a second, you considered calling Clint. He was an Avenger and you knew he would help you without a second thought, but you didn’t want him to get involved in this mess. You had no idea what you were dealing with, but your instinct said it was even more dangerous than it originally seemed. Every new information you had learned just made it worse. 

When Nat finally answered you through the comms, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. She gave you an address and more than an hour later, making sure you weren’t followed, you arrived to the place where they were hiding. It was still dark outside, stars hidden behind clouds, the streets quiet and empty.

Steve opened the door and ushered you inside, his worried eyes lighting up when he finally saw you. The moment he closed the door, he pulled you into a hug. You heard quick steps and shuffling as Nat peeked out of the window, but you couldn’t pay much attention while you were wrapped in the safety of Steve’s arms. His embrace was warm and tight and made you feel like he never wanted to let you go ever again. Pressed against him, you could feel as some of the tension slowly leave his body.

“What the hell happened to you?” Pulling back, you cupped Steve’s face and searched for injuries that you thankfully couldn’t find. There was so much pain you had felt from him in the past couple of hours, it was rather surprising he could still stand on his feet. 

Steve released a long breath. “I guess we have a lot to explain.”

Following his gaze, you turned to Nat who looked just as tired as Steve did, standing next to a stranger you had never seen before.

“Who is he?”

“Sam,” Steve introduced him, taking a step back. Your hands fell from his cheeks and his arms left you, making you already miss his touch. “He’s my friend. You can trust him,” he added the last sentence, seeing the uncertainty on your face.

“It’s nice to finally meet the girl Steve couldn’t shut up about,” Sam said as he stepped closer and shook your hand.

No matter how devastated you felt, his words involuntarily put a smile on your face. It made you feel warm knowing he actually talked about you to his friends and you weren’t his dirty secret. 

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said, clearly embarrassed, before turning to you. “Are you okay? Where were you?”

Your gaze flickered between him and Nat. “You first.”

Gathering in the living room, they told you everything that happened that day, from the moment you went your separate ways. Steve’s conversation with Pierce, his fight in the elevator with agents he used to consider people he could rely on, how they made him look like he was the bad guy and how he escaped from S.H.I.E.L.D. They talked about the little trip to New Jersey and the hidden Hydra base, sharing every little detail they learned about Zola and his mysterious weapon.

By the time you had asked every question you had and talked through everything, you looked just as hopeless as they did. It was hard to tell who was in worse shape, Natasha or Steve. For a change, neither of them really tried to hide how they felt.

Suddenly, deep exhaustion washed over you, both emotionally and physically. 

“Guess what I’ve found is quite irrelevant now,” you said, leaning back against the couch. Steve was sitting next to you, his body pressed between you and the armrest. It felt comforting to be so close to him. “I went to find Rodchenko,” you started, glancing at Nat who sat across you; her features instantly hardening when she heard the name. “He was a Red Room scientist.” 

“Why is he important?” Steve asked.

“He used to brainwash us,” you said, feeling as Steve’s body tense. “They experimented with many different methods on us through the years but he mostly used electroconvulsive therapy. There was also something else—I’m not sure how it worked—some kind of mental stimulation where he could basically program missions into our heads. It was pretty much painless too.”

You heard Steve muttering a string of curses under his breath, gripping the arm of the couch tighter.

“Anyway, when I say us, I mean the Winter Soldier too. He probably had it worse than us. I thought if anyone knew anything about him, then it’d be Rodchenko.”

“And?”

“He wasn’t there,” you said, turning to Steve. “S.H.I.E.L.D. reports say they caught him but he wasn’t in his cell. Someone else was though.” 

Steve let out a long breath. “Yeah. So Hydra—or S.H.I.E.L.D.—not only have a weapon but they also know how to control it.” 

Startling you, Natasha jumped up from her seat, walking out of the living room with fast steps. 

“Nat…” You said her name, standing up, but she only stopped for a short answer. 

“Just… I just need to be alone for a little.”

Sighing, you fell back on the sofa and buried your face into your hands, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms. 

“What’s going on with her?” Steve asked, genuinely confused. 

You didn’t give him an answer. There were many things that Natasha was going through these days, some even she couldn’t figure out yet, but none of them were your secrets to tell to anyone, not even to Steve. She would share with him when she was ready and she wanted to, but you could also imagine her keeping it to herself forever. 

While Sam was in the room as well, you and Steve started plotting how to find someone, anyone who could give you some answers about what Hydra was up to, only hitting dead ends. After listening to you suffer for too long, Sam talked you into getting some sleep, at least a few hours before making any important decisions and leaving the house. None of you could argue with him too much, as both of you had been awake for too long at this point. 

He led you to a small guest room with an inviting bed that made you want nothing more than fall into it, but only after a hot shower. Despite the warm water making you even sleepier, you weren’t sure you could close your eyes for more than five seconds.

Steve stood at the window, lost in his thoughts when you returned to the room. He barely noticed your quiet footsteps.

“You’re every sniper’s dream.” 

He glanced at you with a small smile, before letting the curtain fall back to its place and stepping away from the window. So many feelings were storming inside Steve, but above all, he was glad you were safe and here, with him. He watched as your gaze quickly became distant, empty, and soon, you were a million miles away.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name softly. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

You held his gaze a few seconds longer, before shaking your head and plopping down on the edge of the bed, staring at your hands. Steve joined you, waiting for you to collect your thoughts.  

“I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. because I thought I could finally do something good,” you said, lifting your head.” I could’ve chosen to die. Or be in a prison, maybe. But I wanted to… I really wanted to make it right, you know? For a while, I seriously believed that I could make up for all the shit I’ve done for the K.G.B. But I just continued what I’d started.” You paused, taking a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. “How many innocent people you think I’ve killed just because they were in the way? How many dangerous weapons and intel I’ve got from the bad guys, only offering them to Hydra on a silver platter? At least with the K.G.B. I knew which side I was on.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Steve said quietly. There were very few people who understood what were you going through right now, and he was one of them. “When I killed the Red Skull I thought Hydra was gone. I naively thought the world would become a better place when I put that plane into the ice. But I woke up and I had to realize that everything is still the same, if not worse.”

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. “What are we going to do now?”

“We’re going to fix this.”

Steve’s tone was firm and confident, but for some reason that you couldn’t quite explain at first, his answer disappointed you.

“Are we though?” You asked, staring off into the distance. “Maybe we fix it for now, but what then? A few years on and someone will come again. Maybe Hydra. Maybe someone else.”

Steve shifted, carefully pulling away so you looked at him. You could see the confusion in his eyes, the deep lines over his forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just… aren’t you tired? Like… seriously exhausted of this? I’m 89 and I have no memory of any period of my life when I wasn’t fighting. It just… keeps going on and on and on. K.G.B., Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s all the same. I just want to be with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Steve looked at you in a way like his heart was shattering into small pieces. Secretly, you wished he would tell you to go then, run away together and never look back. Hide somewhere in a small town, far away from everything, where no one knew who Captain America was. Start a new, boring life together.

But that wasn’t Steve, and it wasn’t you either.

“If you want to get out now, I can’t stop you,” Steve broke the silence, placing a gentle, warm hand on your face. “But is this really what you want? You were always fighting to survive. Now you have a chance to do something good, just like you dreamed of. You don’t have to do this for the rest of your life if you don’t want to,” Steve said, brushing his thumb across your skin. “Just one last time. It’s just us. People you know and trust. We can fix this together.” 

“Nat told me you have a way with words.” Leaning into his touch, you smiled at him gently. “I know. You’re right. It’s just really hard to see all of this after learning the truth about S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Yeah. It is. Try to get some sleep. Maybe it’ll help.”

“I’m not sure I can sleep now,” you said, but climbed up and leaned into the pillows. “You should, too.”

Steve squirmed and stood up, pointing at the bed before he rubbed the back of his neck. “Is it okay if I sleep with you?”

You couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Oh, no. It would be so terrible. It’s not like I have dreamt of this like… forever.”

He sighed, but a smile played on his lips while he kneeled on the bed and dropped himself down next to you. The bed wasn’t exactly designed for two people, especially with one of them being a bulky super soldier, but neither of you seemed to mind to share the small space. Steve pulled the blanket over your body and tucked you in, saying nothing but gazing into your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I just… really want to kiss you right now.”

Your smile grew and you shifted a little closer. “And what’s stopping you?”

Steve had imagined kissing you a million times before, even when he had no idea of who you could be. He wondered how it would feel; if it was any different from kissing other people. When he leaned in and his lips pressed against yours, Steve immediately knew it was so much more than he could have ever dreamed of. How could he even think it would be the same as kissing someone else? The thought seemed so stupid now. 

He was being very gentle. Tender brushes and small nips, as if he was only testing the waters, afraid it wouldn’t live up to the high expectations you both had by now. But he was so, so wrong.  All the while he couldn’t think of anything else but how right it felt.

Feeling your small sigh on his lips, Steve figured you must have experienced something very similar. His hand found its way to your cheek again, holding it gently while he leaned a little above you for better access. He let you deepen the kiss and melted completely against you. Goosebumps prickled across his skin when you brushed your fingers through his hair, before resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingertips softly scratching at his nape. Your touches helped to release a dull ache in his body he wasn’t even aware of it was there. Long years of pain had their meaning now, mending old wounds even time couldn’t heal.

He rested his forehead against yours when he pulled back, longingly watching your lips a little longer before he closed his eyes again. Steve felt like he should say something, but he couldn’t think of anything remotely close to describe how he had felt in those moments, so overwhelmed with emotions. 

Eventually, it was you who broke the silence. “We’re not letting each other go, are we?”

His eyes fluttered open. “You’re staying then?”

“I am,” you answered with a small smile before shifting closer to him, seeking his warmth. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to him. 

“No, we won’t.”

Steve didn’t remember the last time he had felt so hopeful about his future —or when he saw any future, really. Despite everything that was going down with S.H.I.E.L.D., he knew he was going to get through this, all of you were. He never thought your presence would affect him so strongly, but after all, you were his soulmate. You belonged to each other, were destined to be together. It made Steve think that now that you were here, nothing could happen that you couldn’t overcome. 

But by the time he woke up several hours later, you were gone. 


	12. Chapter 12

**6 months later, New York**

Steve opened his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fist. He felt like he had just woken up from a fever dream, even though, to his dismay, he was awake for much longer than he should have been. Sometimes he wished that one day when he woke up, he would realize it was all just a bad dream. The feeling wasn’t strange; he had already felt something very familiar right after they had thawed him out of the ice. 

The past couple hours while they wiped a Hydra base out somewhere in Europe passed in a blur. Steve fought in a way like he had never fought before, getting more blood on his hands than he dared to admit. 

His eyes fell on the flashing cursor, the report he was working on only half done. He heaved a sigh before sitting closer to his desk again, lifting his hands above the keyboard only to stare blindly at it. Burying himself into work usually helped to keep his mind busy, but today was an exception. He woke up feeling well, had a nice conversation with Sam, but the moment he felt pain striking through his calf even though he was sitting idly at the table, dark clouds fogged his brain. 

That was all it took. A little sting or a deep ache that reminded Steve his soulmate was somewhere out in the world, willingly choosing to spend the rest of her life without him. 

He leaned back in his chair, looking around his office. He felt disconnected, out of place. After everything that had happened six months ago, Steve decided to take up Tony’s offer and moved into the Tower. It was strange at first, but he got used to it quite quickly. Having people around and drowning himself into avenging helped him to forget, or at least to distract him for a while. Nights were the worst and every time he was alone, his mind started racing, realizing how he didn’t belong here, or anywhere anymore. Everyone around him had moved on with their lives, as they should, but Steve couldn’t. 

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: losing his soulmate or knowing that Bucky was alive, but did not remember him at all. He had lost two of the most important people in his life within a few days, one of them for the second time and the other one without even truly having had them. 

At least he had some hope left with Bucky. When he wasn’t on a mission with the Avengers, he had been trying to find his long lost friend along with Sam and Nat. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t think running after him would be like trying to find a ghost. No one saw anything and no one knew anything. Every single time he finally had a lead, a tiny clue, Bucky disappeared once again. Natasha, despite her help, warned him many times. She had told him Bucky must have known all along that they were looking for him, but he didn’t want to be found, and there was also a high chance he still had no idea who Steve was. 

It didn’t stop Steve and he couldn’t entirely believe her either. He saw the way Bucky looked at him when they were fighting on the Helicarrier, his eyes filled with anger and questions. His desperate screams still echoed in his head, sometimes waking him up in the middle of the night.  _ He pulled me out of the river _ , Steve kept reminding himself, clinging onto every last bit of hope.  

The voices in his head became too loud and he rubbed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. His gaze involuntarily wandered to the drawer of his desk, and before he could stop himself, he slid it out. He reached into it and pulled out a crumpled paper he had already thrown into the trash many times, but always made his mind up and decided to keep it. He unfolded the letter, tears stinging his eyes when saw your handwriting. Written in cursive with a black pen, letters heavily slanting. He had read your words many times in the past months, reminding himself it was your choice. It made his heart ache deeply, but at least it stopped him from doing something you wouldn’t want to.

_ “Dear Steve, _

_ I’m so sorry for leaving you like this. You deserve a proper goodbye, face to face, but if I want to be honest, I’m not sure I would have the strength to tell you all of this while looking into your eyes. I know you’ll try to stop me and it’d be too much to bear. I’d change my mind, but I know I can’t do that. _

_ Before you start blaming yourself, I want you to understand that this is my choice. I’m leaving because this is what I need to do. I’ve never had a free choice in my entire life before. This is the first time I have a chance to choose. I know if I don’t take this step now, I won’t be able to do it later, and I would regret that. _

_ I’m tired. I want to quit fighting. I want to try and figure out what I really want to do with my life and I want to leave my past behind. It’s terrible to admit even to myself, but we both know you could never be a part of this, Steve. You belong with the Avengers. You are a hero, you always have been and always will be. You and I are so different. I can’t be a part of that world of yours and you would never be able to convince me otherwise.  _

_ Please, don’t try to find me. We’re better off apart, and I hope you will see this soon.  _

_ Y/N” _

Steve stared at the paper long after he had already finished reading. He felt empty and heavy at the same time. He wondered if he could have done anything differently to make you stay. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to persuade you to keep fighting with him; he should’ve just let you go, as you had wanted. Maybe then, you would have seen that there was a life with him beyond all of this; and then you would have stayed. 

A knock on his door shook him out of his thoughts. Steve quickly folded the letter and hid it back in the drawer. Despite spending most of his time with the Avengers now, he hadn’t told anyone about what had happened. He suspected Clint knew; he was your friend and Natasha had surely filled him in on the details. It didn’t bother Steve, but he didn’t feel like talking about it. To anyone. He just wanted to forget. 

“Come in.”

Nat opened the door and peeked in. “We have a visitor.” 

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Steve said without asking who it was. He shut down his laptop and went to wash his face in some cold water, trying to forget about your letter. Steve could very quickly put himself in “mission-mode” if it was necessary, and now he was almost,  _ almost _ happy that someone had come to distract him.  

His delight, however, didn’t last for too long. The moment the doors of the elevator opened and he saw Sharon, Steve knew he wasn’t going to hear good news. 

“Sharon,” Steve greeted her, joining her and Nat in the living room. “Or is it Kate?”

“Director Carter will do just fine, thank you.” 

The smallest smile lifted the corner of his lips as he sat down next to Natasha on the couch. “How’s rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D. coming along?”

“It’s a mess,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind some help, you know.” 

Steve stayed silent and felt a heavy weight falling on his shoulders. He still had mixed feelings about S.H.I.E.L.D., even though they had restarted from nothing. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Nat asked. 

Sharon sighed. It was written all over her face that whatever she wanted to talk about, it was something very serious. “Before we get started, I just want to make something clear. After I leave this building, you will forget about this conversation. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t ever here.” 

Steve furrowed his brows and exchanged a small glance with Nat, before they both nodded. A strange feeling gripped his chest, something very ominous that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Alright,” Sharon said quietly. “When was the last time you heard from Y/N?”

Steve’s heart missed a beat. Of all the things he thought she wanted to talk about, he didn’t even think of you. 

“Just after Fury’s death,” Nat answered. “Faked death.” 

She nodded and turned to Steve. “What about you?” 

“Same as her,” he replied. “Did something happen?”

“Are you sure? She didn’t even try to contact you… in any way?”

From her cautious words, Steve realized Sharon had to know you were soulmates. He immediately turned to his friend, anger bubbling deep within him as he gave her a glare. “Natasha…”

She lifted her hands defensively. “I didn’t tell her.”

“Actually, Y/N told me,” Sharon said. “When she was looking for that Red Room scientist.”

Steve let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t heard from her since then. Sharon, what is this about?”

Biting her lip, Sharon pulled a dossier out of her bag. “In the past few months, there’s been reports about a few assassinations in Europe. Politicians, seemingly no connections. All of the crime scenes look the same. A bullet in the head or a knife in the heart. No mess. No evidence. Quick and sharp work.” She slid a picture closer to them on the coffee table. Not much could be seen in the blurry screenshot of the footage from the security camera aside from the shape of a woman in the shadows of the night.

“I’ve been trying to keep this as quiet as I can, but the last assassination happened here, in the United States.”

“Wait,” Steve said, raising a hand. There was an amused smile on his lips as he realized where this conversation was going. “You don’t think it’s Y/N, do you?”

“When I first saw the footage, my first thought was that it’s her. I’ve fought by her side. I’ve trained with her,” she said, turning to Natasha. “You both received a very special training. You have a fighting style that probably no one else in the world has. She could only be seen for five seconds on that footage but I could pick that style out of a million.”  

“Listen,” Steve said, standing up from the couch. “She left because she wanted to start a new life. Something that doesn’t involve fighting. I don’t know who that is,” he shook his head, pointing on the files, “but it isn’t her. And how can you be so sure that the same person killed these people if there’s no evidence left behind?”

“As I said, the last kill happened here. Well, in Washington. I went there, but as always, there was nothing left behind. Except this.” She pulled another picture out of the dossier which showed a red triangle, upside down, painted on what looked like someone’s skin. “So I’ve checked the other reports from Europe and they had found the same symbol on four out of five scenes. Is this saying anything to you?”

“No,” Steve snapped, but before he could continue, Nat cut him off.

“It’s a calling card.” Her voice trembled and she reached for the photo, not taking her eyes off of it while she spoke. As Steve watched her with his eyebrows still furrowed in anger, he could see fear all over her features. “The russian assassin program we were in… they gave all of us a unique symbol. We left our mark at the scene so we could get the credit for the kill. This… it’s hers. It’s her calling card.”

For a few, never-ending seconds, it felt like time had stopped in the room. Steve couldn’t breathe and as the room started spinning, his legs gave in and he slumped down on the couch. He took the picture away from Nat, watching the little red mark as if waiting for it to disappear.

“It can’t be her,” he said finally. “Someone is trying to frame her.” 

“Steve…”

“Look, Sharon, thank you for your help, but whoever is leaving these signs behind isn’t her. She left for a reason. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do this.”

“Steve,” she said his name again, trying to stay as patient as she could. “I came here because I know how important she is to you. I could keep this quiet so far but she’s already operating in the united states—I can’t do it much longer. She’s good, but sooner or later she’s going to get caught, like she was when S.H.I.E.L.D. found her and Nat. Do you really think they would give her another chance?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek and held Sharon’s kind gaze—she had no bad intentions, but she was wrong, he knew she was. 

“This isn’t her,” he said, dropped the picture down the table and stormed out of the room. 

Long hours passed and Natasha couldn’t find Steve anywhere. She knew he probably just wanted to blow off some steam, but he could be very unpredictable when fury overwhelmed him. The more time passed the more scared she got that he might have done something stupid. 

It was late at night when the noise of footsteps caught her ears and Steve jogged up the stairs, walking into the roomy common area like nothing had happened. 

“Where the hell have you been?!” She asked from behind the kitchen bar, hands gripping the edge of the table. 

A long, deep sigh left Steve’s lips and he sat down on a stool, rubbing his eyes. He watched the half-empty glass in front of Nat, the smell of strong alcohol filling his nostrils as once again, he wished he could get drunk to forget about everything just for a few hours.

“She isn’t doing this willingly, you know that, right?”

Nat swallowed hard and sat back down. “You think it’s Hydra?”

“I don’t know,” Steve answered. His voice sounded unusually weak. “Nat, if I have learned one thing about her, then it is how much she hated everything she had done in the past. She was ashamed of it. She wanted to… she just wanted to move on from it. There’s no way she’d go back to do it again. Not by herself.” 

“I know that,” Natasha said, drinking the remnants of her vodka. She had the same struggles, of course she knew you’d never go back. Tears filled her eyes, but she kept them back.

“What about the Red Room? Is it still working? Could it be them?”

“I wasn’t sure, but they’re using the calling card, so…” 

Steve shook his head. “I shouldn’t have given up on her so easily.” 

Nat closed her eyes, sighing. “Don’t start this again.” 

“I’ve read that letter and I just let her go. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve known…” 

Steve had only found the letter when he left the hospital, tucked into the pocket of his pants. He wasn’t sure then when it got there, but now he knew for sure you didn’t put it there while you were both still at Sam’s house. When he had first read it, he was upset and wanted to go after you anyway—up until he remembered your conversation from a few days before. Everything you wrote down in that paper, you had told him looking in the eye as well. He had no doubts that you had left because that was what you really, truly wanted. Steve wanted to give you that choice, hoping you could find that peaceful life that you longed to have. 

But instead of helping you, he had made everything worse. 

“If you failed her, then I did, too. Stop beating yourself,” Nat said. “I’m going to find her and bring her back.” 

Steve frowned. “You think I don’t want to?”

Natasha hesiated. “You understand she’s probably brainwashed? That maybe she doesn’t remember you at all?”

His heart leapt painfully, sinking to the floor. He had already experienced how it felt like when someone he loved looked at him like he was a complete stranger, ready to kill him without a second thought. 

Steve remembered how you looked at him when you talked in the park behind the hospital, or after the first time he kissed you—he remembered seeing all the love and yearning in your gaze. Imagining the same eyes watching him like he was no one to him made him want to scream from the pain that gripped his chest.

“I just don’t want you to go through that,” Nat went on while Steve stayed silent. “To fight against someone you love…”

“I know that, Nat. Probably more than you do,” Steve said sharply, immediately regretting his words. He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you just want to help, but I won’t give up on her again.”

She brushed tears away from the corner of her eyes and nodded, clearing her throat. “Whether it’s Hydra or the Red Room, it’s going to be very dangerous. The two of us alone won’t be enough.”

“We’re not alone,” Steve said. “Do you have any idea where she is?”

“I have a few. It won’t be easy to find her, though.”

Steve ran his hand down his face, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with exhaustion. He slipped off the stool, turning to Nat again. “Try to get some sleep. We’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“Steve?” Nat called after him, standing up and walking towards him. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.” 

“When do I ever do that?” He asked sarcastically, making Natasha tut and roll her eyes at him. She pulled him into a comforting hug and Steve felt some of the stress leave his body, even though his heart kept swelling with pain. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the next time he’d see you, but he knew nothing could ever prepare him for that. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m finally back!! Writer’s block sucks but I defeated it so here’s the new chapter. I was so excited about this so I hope you will all enjoy it. ;) Hugs and kisses to everyone for loving this story ❤️

**Washington, 6 months ago**

Steve fell asleep with his hand lost in your hair, breath gently blowing on your cheek as his body was pressed tightly against yours. This peaceful sight of him put a smile on your lips; it was rare to see him like this. Your eyelids felt heavier with every passing second, but you wanted to stay awake—you knew if you dozed off, this moment that you were cherishing so much would be gone in the blink of an eye. It would disintegrate into tiny pieces as if it were nothing but a dream and when you woke up, you would have nothing but a  fading memory of it left.

Having your soulmate so close dulled the strong, endless yearning, but you still longed to have all of him, in every way possible, now and for the rest of your days. It was overwhelming—you had never felt such intense emotions for anyone before, and after all those years spent in the Red Room, you weren’t sure you would ever be capable of it. 

It wasn’t bad. All those feelings you couldn’t even describe filled you with warmth and made your entire body vibrate with joy. It was the complete opposite of what you had felt during those long decades while Steve was frozen in the ice. He melted your heart with one little soft touch and made you feel like he could heal your deepest scars. 

But still, you couldn’t shake the ominous feeling off that you had been having for days now. At first, you thought it would disappear once you were together with Steve again, but he was here, sleeping soundly in your arms, and you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying. Would there ever be a day when you don’t have to be scared that something would happen to him? When you wouldn’t have to fear someone would use him against you or the other way around? It was the first time you had let someone so close, but you knew it had a price. He was Captain America and you were an ex-Soviet spy; living a normal life was something unachievable for you.

Slowly, without waking Steve up, you freed yourself from his gentle grasp. Before you tiptoed out of the bedroom, you grabbed the gun from the nightstand and tucked it into the waistband of your jeans, just in case. When you closed the door, he was still fast asleep. 

As it turned out, you weren’t the only one who needed some fresh air. Nat was sitting on the porch, staring off into the dark distance in the late night hours. She didn’t show any reaction when you sat down next to her. 

“How are you feeling?”

She was silent for so long you started thinking she wasn’t going to answer your question. When she spoke up with her quiet and raspy voice, you understood it was because she tried to keep herself from crying. “Don’t you feel like everything we’ve done since we joined S.H.I.E.L.D. has been  in vain?”

Sighing, you leaned against the cold wall. Sometimes you forgot how similar your thoughts were. “Yeah. Like we just continued what we’d started.”

Nat shook her head, but stayed silent. 

“Steve wants to go after Hydra.”

“Of course he does,” she said with the tiniest smile that faded as quickly as it came.

It made you wonder if she was just as torn as you were. What would you do if she said she didn’t want to take part in this fight? You promised Steve you’d stay and you meant it, but there was still that little voice whispering into your ears—would this really make a difference? Feeling like you were running the same circles with no success devastated you. 

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” Nat said firmly, furrowing her eyebrows at you. There was one huge difference between the two of you from the very start. While she had always wanted to wipe the red out of her ledger, you often questioned if trying it was really worthwhile. You truly wished you could, but many times you felt you like would never be able to make everything right.  “Are you?”

“Yes. I mean… look, I want to do this too. I just feel like it’s another poor attempt. Because every time I felt like I did something right, in the end it turned out I didn’t. Every time. And even if we won this… I don’t really see a future, you know?

“You have Steve,” she said softly. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

You returned her smile, but couldn’t say anything. If Steve wasn’t here, you were sure you’d have already run away. He was your pillar of strength even when you hadn’t even met him.

With the approaching dawn, birds started chirping loudly on the trees nearby. You knew you should go back to Steve and get some sleep, but there was still one more thing you wanted to speak about with Natasha. She was deeply lost in her thoughts again and you were almost scared to bring it up. 

“You know he will probably be there.” 

She swallowed. “I know.” 

“And there’s a chance you have to fight against him—”

“I know,” she cut you off, looking at you. “He doesn’t remember me. And honestly, I don’t remember much either. That’s probably for the best. He’s against us. He killed Fury. If he gets in our way… we need to stop him.” 

If this conversation happened a year ago, you would have only encouraged Nat, making sure she didn’t have second thoughts and she’d fight with the Winter Soldier without question if it was necessary. Things had changed since then. Involuntarily, you put yourself in her place, and you couldn’t even imagine going against Steve—even if he tried to kill you.

“Are you going to tell Steve?”

“No. He’d have a million questions I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to.” 

You gave her shoulder a comforting rub. “I’m sorry, Nat.”

She smiled in answer, though rather weakly. “I’d just really like to know how Hydra got their hands on him.”

“Yeah, me too. That’s a problem for another day,” you said. “Try to get some rest. We’re going to have a long day.”

She nodded and gave you a tight hug, before she quietly walked back into the house. You decided to stay outside a little longer to mull things over, but after your conversation, somehow you felt yourself much better. It made you realize that you weren’t alone and even though the situation seemed hopeless, you had trust in the people you loved. Having loved ones and trusting others was something you still needed to get used to and learn how to handle, but once you had experienced how it felt having them, you didn’t want to let go of them.

A noise startled you and made you jump up from your seat. It was something quiet, rattling leaves and snapping branches, but it was enough to send an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. Carefully, you reached behind your back and slipped the gun out of the waistband while you walked out on the deserted streets. There was no one anywhere nearby besides a ginger cat who ran across the street and quickly disappeared from your sight. 

Lowering your weapon, you were just about to turn around and go back to the house when someone stepped out from the shadows of a tree. The lamppost nearby gave just enough warm, orange light so you could recognize the man in front of you. The way he just stood there with his hands in his pockets, so calmly, made your blood run cold. 

Days of having a premonition now had its meaning. Ever since you had gone back to Russia to look for the Winter Soldier and try to find out what happened with the sleepers, you couldn’t stop feeling like something was about to go horribly wrong. And there you were now, standing face to face with a Red Room handler. You wondered for how long had they been following you: had they already been on your heels in Europe or only since you had come back to America?

When you lifted your arms, you knew you didn’t stand a chance, and even before you could cock the gun, a quick, sharp pain shot through your head, before you collapsed on the ground and everything went black. 

**Now, somewhere above Russia**

Natasha looked at the old, wrinkled photo Steve was clutching on about him and James, sometime during the war.  _My James_ , she thought and a painful, sharp pang filled her chest. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, nearly choking on it and breaking out in a sob from the effort. She took a deep breath through her nose, before slowly releasing it. Since she had met the Winter Soldier a few months ago, memories were coming back to her in waves; glimpses of stolen seconds and whispered promises that were all taken away from them. Fighting against him hurt more than anything ever could and she wanted to spare Steve from experiencing the same, but she knew he would never sit idly while someone he loved was in danger.

“We’re going to find her,” Nat said, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

He folded the picture and tucked it back into a hidden pocket of his suit. “We have to.” 

Steve carried a tremendous weight on his shoulders, feeling so much guilt it nearly crushed him. He shouldn’t have given up on you just because of that letter; he should’ve made sure you were fine before letting you go. Instead, he abandoned you for months. He couldn’t be entirely sure what had happened to you during this time, but whatever you must have been through, he blamed himself for it. 

The thought of losing you for good frightened him so much he simply stopped thinking about it. He was going to find you and bring you home—this was the only thing in his mind. He couldn’t fail you, not again. 

“Cap, we’re almost there.” 

Steve clenched his fist so hard his knuckles went white, before he took a deep breath and stood up. He walked to Sam who drove the Quinjet and looked through the window. There was nothing as deep and endless as slavic forests. Wherever he looked, Steve saw nothing but a sea of trees, casting dark shadows under the bright moonlight. They found a small clearing where they could put the jet down, leaving it behind as they walked into the woods. 

In the past few weeks, Steve had left no stone unturned in the attempt of trying to find you. With the help of Nat, he searched through countless old places that used to belong to Department X, but they found all of them were either abandoned or demolished. Each time, Steve became a little more desperate, but giving up never crossed his mind. Thankfully, Natasha knew just the right people to interrogate, and very often, she didn’t keep herself back at all in order to get the information she needed. 

Steve didn’t even need to ask Sam to join them. When he told his friend what happened, Sam acted like he was already on the case, offering his help without hesitation. Steve was helpful for it. He didn’t exactly know what they were up against, but if these were the same people who raised and trained you, the same people who made Bucky what he is today, he wasn’t sure he’d be enough by himself. 

He knew he’d do it if he needed to. He’d go and stand alone and fight against the biggest army the world had ever seen if he saw the tiniest chance to save you. The fact that there were people behind him to help filled him with eternal gratitude. 

Clint was the other one who immediately volunteered to help. While Steve poured his heart out to Sam, Natasha seeked to find some solace with her best friend. Perhaps because he knew what it felt like when someone messed with his head, because he was the one who spoke for you all those years ago, or because you became good friends along the way, but Clint went absolutely crazy when he heard what happened. 

“I guess this is it,” Natasha said as they reached the edge of the forest. They stayed hidden behind the trees, looking at the huge building in front of them. The walls were white and recently painted; it looked like the building was fairly new. 

“Are you sure?”

Sam sent Redwing ahead to scan the building. “This has to be one of the most heavily guarded facilities I’ve ever seen. They have security cameras all over the place. I can’t find a weak spot.”

“Yeah, it sounds like it is,” Nat said.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Steve sighed and bowed his head. Trying to sneak in didn’t make much sense; with all the cameras they had, there was a chance they already knew someone was there. He clenched his jaw and looked back over his shoulder. “Clint, blow the door up.”

There were so many risks in his so-called plan that he didn’t even dare to think of them. Maybe you weren’t even there, maybe you wouldn’t want to leave with him. Maybe he was just about to risk his own and his closest friends’ lives against dangerous people. 

Clint shot three of his explosive-tip arrows at the heavy entrance door while they ran closer to the building. Only a gaping, empty hole left at the place of the detonation, dust filling the air as they stormed in. Loud sirens echoed off the walls as Steve and his friends easily fought their way through the guards who weren’t killed in the explosion. 

They found themselves in a long, empty corridor with many doors on both sides. Two staircases were ahead of them - one leading upstairs and one down. They kicked each door in on the way, but the rooms were all deserted. Steve had a terrible feeling overwhelming him. What if it was a trap? His breath was coming in sharp gasps and he had to remind himself to keep calm. 

The little group separated soon: while Sam and Clint went downstairs, Nat and Steve walked up the long staircase. 

“There aren’t many guards here,” Steve noted after he had knocked a man out. 

“Don’t really need them when the place is full of trained assassins. In the prisons, maybe,” Nat replied, opening the door on her right. It wasn’t locked and even though the room was empty, she slowly lowered her gun and walked in. 

Steve followed her with a frown, watching as all the colour left her face. The room was painted red from floor to the ceiling, mirrors and ballet barres against the walls on their left and right. Nat stopped in the middle, staring at a dark stain on the crimson floor.

“Natasha,” Steve said quietly, walking closer to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. “No one will blame you if you just wait outside. I know this is hard for you—”

“No,” she said firmly. If anything, the memories that flooded her mind in the past few seconds only made her more adamant to save her friend. “Let’s get her out of this place.” 

The more he saw of the building, the more sick Steve felt. The classrooms that almost seemed normal, the training rooms that no child should see, the living quarters with shackles on the bed frames all gave a little taste of what you had to go through when you were only a little girl. From what you had told him, from what  _he had felt_ , Steve already knew about your past suffering, but only seeing it with his own eyes, he now understood it completely. 

“What does it mean?” Steve asked while they hurried up the stairs. “Are they still training girls?”

The question barely left his lips when two girls appeared at the end of the hallway. Their hair was pulled back into a tight bun, their expression inscrutable. Neither of them could be older than fifteen.

“Are you kidding me?” Steve asked, nearly desperately. “Nat, I’m not fighting with them. They—they are—”

“Go. I’ve got this.” 

Steve looked at her. “What are you going to do?”

“Just go!”

Steve sighed and turned on his heels, running into the other direction. He had such a strong feeling about you, that you had to be somewhere here, but he knew there was a chance it was no more than just hope. He picked up his pace, losing count of how many doors he kicked in and how many people he knocked out by the time he reached the highest floor. 

“I have eyes on her, Cap,” Clint said quietly, crouching on the stairs and watching you from above. He left Sam somewhere behind to keep a group of guards busy while he headed down. 

“Where are you?” Steve’s urgent voice came through the comms.

“Uh…” Clint looked around, shrugging. “Basement, I guess. Shit, I lost her.” 

He heard as Steve muttered a string of curses while he stood up, slowly and quietly walking down the stairs. Clint reached the corridor where he last saw you, but now you were nowhere to be seen. He didn’t notice you were walking behind him like a shadow until he turned around, out of instinct, because he could hear nothing of your silent steps. You grabbed his arms before he could nock an arrow, kneeling him in the stomach which made him falter for only a second. He didn’t hesitate to kick your legs out from under you. 

While you landed on your back, you were quickly back on your feet, but stopped as Clint raised both of his hands defensively. 

“Okay, Y/N. We’ve already been there, remember?”

“She doesn’t, Clint!” Natasha shouted through the comms, out of breath; it sounded like she was in a fight. “Just try to get her before she kills you!”

But Clint didn’t listen to her. He had no intention of hurting his friend until it wasn’t completely necessary. He watched as you stared at him, showing no sign of recognizing him. “Y/N, please. This isn’t you.”

He saw the tiniest frown creasing your forehead before you leaped at him again. Clint remembered then why he didn’t like to spar with you or Nat: he could never truly keep up with that speed. Both of you were quick and efficient, two steps ahead of him all the time. He didn’t realize until now how much you were holding back when you were only training, and he knew if he wasn’t careful, you could easily put him out of the way.

“Oh, come on,” Clint panted, fighting himself up from the ground. “I really don’t want to do this.” 

“That’s all the famous Avengers can do?” 

He grabbed your arm as you wanted to punch him, twisting it out and pulling you against him. It didn’t take much effort to free yourself from his grasp, and Clint felt as his soul left him while you cocked the gun that you pointed at him. His hand went to his holster, feeling it was empty.

“Y/N, don’t do this. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me.”

A sharp pain shot through your wrists as someone, something knocked the gun out of your hand at the same moment you pulled the trigger. The bullet missed its aim, but Clint landed on the ground as you shot him in the shoulder. 

Steve’s shield bounced off the walls before came back to him. He held it in his hand, feeling the throbbing ache in his wrists while you grasped your own. The physical pain he felt in the moment was nothing compared to the way he felt inside under your heavy, anger-filled gaze. He stopped dead, as though frozen in time. Steve remembered how you looked at him the last time you saw each other: eyes sparkling and full of love and adoration. The difference made his heart sink to the floor. 

He saw you picking up the gun from the ground and lifted his shield just in time as you fired at him, once- twice- three times, but he dodged all the bullets that you sent his way. With a groan, you threw the weapon away and pulled out a knife. 

“Please, don’t do this, Y/N,” Steve said, desperation oozing from his voice. He lowered his shield so he could look at you. “I can’t fight against you.”

Steve watched as you narrowed your eyes, confused. He dropped the shield and took his helmet off, letting it fall on the ground. He took a careful step closer, making you tighten your grip around the handle of the knife. “I know you’re in there somewhere.”

The serum had many effects on Steve—one of them which he couldn’t explain any other way but this was that he saw  _faster_. He wasn’t sure he could’ve been a match for you if he didn’t. He lept away from your hits and avoided the edge of your knife, but Steve knew he was only trying to prolong the inevitable. He needed to stop you, but he couldn’t imagine hurting you.

Steve kept you in a headlock and snatched the knife out of your hand, throwing it far away. He saw Natasha from the corner of his eye, falling down on her knees beside Clint, but he couldn’t pay much attention. You reached up with your free hand, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back, painfully so. This was the first time Steve saw you hesitating, but only for a second before you struggled out of his hold, elbowed him in the stomach and used your full body weight to bring him to the ground. 

He saw the confusion on your features one more time before you straddled his chest and wrapped your hands around his throat, squeezing hard. Steve was stronger—he knew he could easily turn you over and peel your hands off him, but he felt like his brain froze at the thought his soulmate killing him. 

It happened swiftly. One moment you looked at Steve like you were ready to murder him, giving everything in to strangle him to death; but as the pain increased, feeling his torment on your own skin, you slowly eased your grip. That was all it took to snap out of it, sitting on the floor with your hand touching your neck while Steve tried to catch his breath.

“Steve?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, sitting up and slipping closer. Your previously empty eyes now slowly filled with fear. “Y/N, it’s me, it’s okay—”

“Oh my God, Steve,” you sobbed out, voice trembling, falling into his arms that he quickly wrapped around you. Steve felt a huge weight lifting off his shoulders while your tears soaked his suit. Somewhere behind him, he heard as Nat warned him to be careful, but he knew that it was over; he got you back. “Oh my God—I—almost killed you—”

He hushed you, stroking your hair while he hugged you close. “You didn’t. It’s okay. It wasn’t you.”

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, hearing as Natasha said they should leave. The way out of the building passed by in a blur. Steve helped you up from the floor, but he realized you couldn’t walk on your own. It was as if all the strength had left your body, shaking and crying so heavily you could barely breathe. He picked you up and only put you down in the Quinjet, where Nat gave you a sedative that quickly made you fell asleep. 

Only then Steve stopped to catch his breath.

“Clint?”

“I’m alive,” he said, giving a thumbs up.

“Sam?”

“Got my ass kicked by a twelve year old girl,” he started, wiping the blood off his nose. “But I’m good.”

Steve gripped the edge of the table you were laying on, deep lines creasing his forehead. “We have to get those girls out of there.” 

“I’ve already called Sharon,” Natasha said, not looking up while she treated the wound on Clint’s shoulder. “They’re on the way.” 

On the way back to New York, Steve didn’t say a word and he refused to move away from you. When the jet finally landed at the top of the Tower, he scooped you up in his arms and brought you to his bedroom. He asked Natasha to take your catsuit off and help you into something more comfortable, waiting outside with his head leaned against the wall. 

“She’s still out,” Nat said as she left the bedroom, quietly closing the door. “Stay here but don’t sleep with her. There’s a chance she’s still… unstable.”

“Yes, sure,” Steve nodded, heaving a deep sigh. “Thank you, Nat.” 

She gave him a smile and a gentle hug, before Steve returned to the room. He changed from his clothes and dropped himself down on the armchair, watching you while you slept peacefully. He was glad you remembered him; it meant they didn’t take your memories away, but he knew the worst was yet to come. When you wake up, you’ll probably remember everything you had done in the past six months: all the assassinations that had led to Sharon finding you, shooting Clint and nearly choking Steve to death. He wished he could have saved you from all of this, but it was too late, the damage was done, and he could only hope you would be able to forgive yourself. 

[  11](https://marvelcapsicle.tumblr.com/post/188582878007/i-carry-your-heart-with-me-chapter-12)


	14. Chapter 14

Steve woke up abruptly, startled by the sound of your loud gasp. He had just fallen asleep minutes ago, his head tilted in a weird angle which made his neck ache. He watched as you bolted up, nearly falling off the bed but he was there, jumping up from the armchair and catching you with ease. The room felt awfully quiet with only your ragged breaths breaking the silence, eyes darting around, stopping everywhere but at him. Steve sat down on the edge of the mattress, one hand gently stroking your upper arm through the fabric of his black hoodie Nat had put you in earlier.  _ It’s okay, you’re here, you’re safe _ , Steve repeated, whispering while you took your surroundings in. Beige walls, matching furniture, books piled up on the dark nightstand. Warm sunlight spilled in through the heavy curtains, fuzzy blanket haphazardly threw over a very old, but comfortable looking armchair. It was so simple, but so cozy, nothing like the place you had woken up a day ago.

When your gaze finally found his soft cerulean eyes, your head fell on his chest, feeling as all of your remaining strength left you. His touch, one of the first gentle touches you had received in  _ so long _ made you jerk when he enveloped you in his strong arms, but soon you melted against him, as if you had always belonged there. 

Steve wished he could stop you from trembling like a leaf, but nothing seemed to help. He noticed you weren’t crying, his skin dry where your face pressed against his neck, but he could feel your heart aching so deeply he thought it might shatter. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, nails digging painfully into his shoulders, desperate to feel the connection you shared.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, staring blankly at the white linen sheets, chewing on your bottom lip. Steve released you from his tender grasp and waited for you to speak, but all the words seem to be stuck in your throat. What could you possibly say to him? Even your most sincere apology would sound empty, meaningless after the damage you had done. You weren’t looking for forgiveness for your crimes. 

Eventually, Steve broke the silence, saying your name softly. “How do you feel?”

Without looking at him, you shook your head. “Did I kill anyone?”

“No. Everyone’s fine.” It was an overstatement. Sam had minor injuries and Clint was lying in the medbay as he lost too much blood. Natasha had no bruises on her body but being there had shaken her more than she had let anyone see.

Steve told you briefly what had happened in the Red Room. S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived at the facility not long after you had left Russia, capturing everyone they could while a few of them most likely escaped. The interrogation was still going on, and while Steve wished to be there, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your side. 

“How could you trust S.H.I.E.L.D. to go there? To take care of those girls?” Steve saw your eyes darkening as fury bubbled up in your chest, looking at him for the first time since you woke up. “Weren’t they compromised by Hydra?”

Steve heaved a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he trusted in S.H.I.E.L.D., but he had faith in Sharon. If it was hard to make him believe in them, he knew it would be impossible to convince you to give them a chance. “There’s a lot happened since… We took S.H.I.E.L.D. down. We’re still after Hydra. But Sharon’s been rebuilding it from nothing. She’s the reason you’re here now.”

He watched as your features changed. Where he could only see anger moments ago, now there was doubt and a million questions. “Do you remember anything that happened in the past seven months?”

Normally, when they messed with your head, it took longer to regain your consciousness. It was like stumbling out of a fog, slowly putting the lost pieces of the puzzle together. When you hurt Steve and felt his pain, you snapped out of it immediately. It had to be your soulmate bond that allowed you to be here now, as yourself, remembering vividly everything that happened before the handlers had taken you back to the Red Room. 

About what you remembered from all that happened after; that was another story. For starters, you couldn’t have told how much time you had spent in the Red Room. Sometimes it felt like days, sometimes it felt like years. Whatever they had done with your head, however they had tried to fog it and form it to their own liking, a small part of you,  _ the real you _ was always there, awake, watching with terror everything you were doing. Countless number of times you had tried to break free from it, only to lose again and again and again. Sometimes you’d taken control, but only for a moment or two. It was a nightmare, looking at yourself from the backseat and knowing there was nothing you could do to stop your own body.

Even though that piece of you was your last string of hope while they controlled you, you wished it was never there. Perhaps then, if you didn’t have to see everything that you had done and you didn’t remember anything, it would be easier to forget. 

“Yes, Steve,” you replied quietly. “I remember everything.” 

Steve clenched his jaw. “How did you—what happened that night? While we were at Sam’s?”

His words made memories flood your mind, overwhelming you with everything that had happened. Eyes squeezed shut, you tried to make them go away, only to see them even more clearly than before. Tearing the blanket from your body, you jumped up from the bed. 

“I just want to take a shower,” you said as Steve stood up as well, worry filling his eyes. 

A heavy weight fell upon Steve’s shoulders. The relief he had felt when he finally got you back disappeared once more. Long were gone the sparkles in your eyes and the soft smiles you gave to him all those months ago; the walls he had once broke down were standing high again. The change was prominent. Now you  were barely looking at him, avoiding his gaze at all cost. Steve knew how much you hated yourself because of your past and he had no idea how he could help you to recover from this. 

It seemed as if you couldn’t rub your body rough enough or set the water hot enough to get clean. Many years ago, after you joined S.H.I.E.L.D., it took you a very long time to accept yourself, and even then, you could never fully forgive yourself. Just as things seemed to get better, when you had a few seconds to stop and breathe, everything was taken away from you once again. All the progress you had made was thrown out of the window and you felt hopeless. The thick steam was stifling and your skin burned. If there wasn’t someone else you hurt with it too, you wouldn’t mind the pain. 

When you left the shower, the bedroom was empty. There was food on the coffee table, plates of different dishes, but only looking at them made your stomach churn. Steve returned just as you plopped down on the couch, pressing yourself against the armrest. Deep, angry lines creased his forehead as he locked his phone, but his features softened when he glanced at you.

“I got you some food,” he said, pointing at the table. He sat down next to you, but kept his distance. “In case you’re hungry.” 

Avoiding his eyes, you took a small sip of water. It was hard to swallow, feeling as there was a lump in your throat that didn’t want to go away. You knew what he wanted to know, but you also knew he wouldn’t force you to talk if you weren’t ready. 

“I’m not entirely sure what happened,” you spoke monotonously, appearing numb. “I was outside, talking with Nat. She went back to the house. I heard some noise and—and I saw him. A handler from the Red Room. I don’t even remember his name but I recognized him. But before I could react…” 

Your voice quivered and Steve shifted closer, but waited for you to continue. When a minute later you were still quiet, staring at your lap, he broke the silence.

“How did you remember me so quickly?” That question bothered him the most. When he met Bucky a few months ago, no matter what he had told him, he didn’t regain his memories. Steve figured he had to remember something; he saw it in his eyes, he heard it in his voice, otherwise, his long lost friend would have left him for dead instead of pulling him out of the river. What he experienced with you was completely different: you snapped out of it in the blink of an eye.

“I… they didn’t wipe my memories out. They just programmed the missions into my head. And it’s probably because we’re soulmates. I felt your pain when I… when we were fighting and…” 

Steve put a hand on your upper arm when he heard your voice break, but you flinched at his touch. You didn’t want his comfort because you didn’t feel like you deserved it. Glancing up, you saw as he looked hurt at your reaction and you despised yourself for it, hating the Red Room for ruining you.

Still avoiding his eyes, you heard him as he heaved a sigh and lean against the couch. “I’m sorry. I should’ve gone after you. If it wasn’t for that letter—”

“Letter?” You asked, but the word barely left your lips when you already remembered. “Oh.” 

“You didn’t write that?”

“No, I did. They made me.” Not the exact words, but they told you to write something that drove him away from you, something that made him think you didn’t need him, something that hurt him. And you knew exactly what to say. “So when you said Sharon’s the reason I’m here…”

“I decided to let you go because I thought that was what you wanted,” Steve said, wishing the earth would open and swallow him. “I thought I was giving you the life you wanted. Then Sharon came with these files. She recognized your fighting patterns.”

Knowing it was the letter that stopped Steve from going after you made you feel even more miserable. After having read it, he didn’t even consider it to be fake or to be a scam until Sharon gave him information about you. What kind of a person were you in his eyes that he believed, without question, that you would leave him like that? This was what you had brought on yourself with all the secrecy, lying to his face for months. 

“It isn’t your fault, Steve. You couldn’t have known.” 

It was now Steve’s turn to avoid your gaze. He felt guilty, but he wouldn’t start complaining and put himself above you. 

“There’s one more thing you should know,” Steve said after a long silence. When you looked up at him, you could see that whatever he wanted to say, it was hard to talk about. “To expose S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra, we put everything up on the internet. Every S.H.I.E.L.D. file, including yours.” He could practically see your soul leave your body. “Natasha had a hearing too. I thought we could prolong yours, but after what happened recently…” 

You nodded, giving him a smile that didn’t reach your yes. “I hope you have a nice cell prepared for me on the Raft.” 

“You’re not going to go to prison,” Steve said sharply, the simple thought making him lose his mind. “They’ll know you weren’t in control. We have handlers and scientists from the Red Room, they’re the living proof that you’re not guilty.”

“Am I not, though?”

“You’re not. It isn’t your fault. It wasn’t you.”

“Stop saying that!” Steve was taken aback at your raised voice, watching as anger distorted your face. “I know what you’re doing, but stop trying to convince me it wasn’t me, because that’s not true. It was me. All of it.”

“Y/N,” Steve said patiently, sighing. “I understand—”

“No, you don’t understand!” You shouted, jumping up from the couch. “You don’t know what it feels like to have no other choice but to offer yourself on a silver platter for anyone to use. To be nothing but a—a tool, a weapon. I have no memory of my life when I truly belonged to myself. I was pulled apart, every part of me thrown into the garbage until I had no idea who I was anymore. I was defiled in ways you couldn’t even imagine. I’ve done things that make me want to throw up when I think of them and yes, you’re right, many times I was controlled, but it doesn’t change anything. You’re keep saying it like—like it’s better that I had no control over it but it’s not! That’s what it makes it the worst. None of this was my choice but I still remember everything, Steve,  _ everything _ . So please don’t tell me it wasn’t me, or that you understand.” 

The tense silence was so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. Steve looked away and clenched his jaw while you plopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He knew he should’ve known better and been more careful when talking to you about this; it wasn’t the first time you had lashed out at him.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, turning to you. “I’m sorry. But please let us help you.”

Steve took your hand between both of his. For a few moments, you let him hold it, before you pulled back. “I think I need to spend some time alone.”

It took a while for Steve to convince you to stay in the Avengers Tower, but eventually, you accepted his offer. There weren’t many places you could go to and even though it was hard to admit it, even to yourself, being close to Steve made you feel safer. They provided you with a room, or more like an entire apartment, nicely furnished and surprisingly, packed with your personal belongings. 

Steve explained that Natasha had kept everything after she moved out of your shared flat. There wasn’t much, mostly clothes, a few books and weapons, but still, you were thankful that she didn’t just dump everything into the trash. It was a tiny sign of her faith in you, showing that deep down, she had believed you’d return soon. Maybe it would have been insignificant for other people, but not for the two of you. In the Red Room, they raised you not to trust anyone, not even the girls who went through the same as you, constantly pitting you against each other. You had always had your doubts in her, and you knew she felt the same way. Only in the past couple years had you started to build back the trust that was destroyed a long time ago. 

Luckily, the Tower was big enough so you didn’t meet anyone, even when you didn’t hide in the apartment. While you wanted to be alone, away from Steve and the Avengers, sometimes you felt like the walls were going to crush you unless you got out of there. Early morning walks when the city was quieter helped a lot to clear your head and calm yourself down.

After two days of avoiding everyone, you decided it was time to meet someone who really deserved an apology and for you to look him in the eye. You lost count of how long you had been standing in front of the door, clutching a cup of coffee that probably already gone cold, when a voice made you to snap your head up. 

“I hope that’s not decaf or we’re going to have a very angry Clint on our hands,” Nat said, walking closer. “And no one likes to see him angry. It’s scary.”

You smiled weakly. “Two days without caffeine? I’m surprised he still has his sanity.” 

“He never did.” Nat stopped next to you, watching as you blindly stared at the paper cup in your hands. “Are you going in?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I just…”

“Y/N,” Nat started as you fell silent. “If anyone, then Clint knows what you’re going through now. And he doesn’t judge you. You know he never would.”

Nodding, you took a deep breath and let Natasha open the door. Clint lay on the bed with his arm under his head, playing something on his phone, but he looked up when you stepped in. 

“Oh my God,” he gasped, sitting up and putting his hearing aid on. “That’s for me? Please say that’s for me.”

“That’s for you,” you said, giving him the cup. “But I think it’s already gone cold.”

He reached for it with both hands like a toddler does for their baby bottle, immediately taking a long sip. “I love you so much.”

“Me or the coffee?”

“Coffee. Obviously.”

While you chuckled, Nat bumped her fist into his shoulder, making him yelp.

“Hey. I’m injured here. You should be gentle with me.”

“In your dreams, Barton,” she said, sitting down next to him on the bed and opening a yogurt that was left from his breakfast.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, still standing awkwardly at the foot of the mattress. 

Clint shrugged. “I have a bullet wound, a few bruised ribs, a girl kicked me in the nuts and I have a terrible headache. Which either comes from the concussion I have or the caffeine withdrawal. Or both.”

“Just the usual, then,” Nat said, causing Clint to elbow her in the ribs. 

A few seconds passed in an awkward silence - seemingly only for you - while Nat spooned her yogurt and Clint sipped his coffee. It was hard to say anything. You wanted to apologize, but you felt like a simple sorry wouldn’t be enough. 

“Clint,” you said quietly, walking closer to the side of the bed. “I… I just wanted to say that…”

“Look, Y/N,” Clint said, putting the cup down on the bedside table. “I’m really bad at apologizing too, so let me save you from it. I forgive you. Let’s move on.”

“Let’s move on?!” You asked loudly, eyes widening. “Clint, I nearly killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“It wasn’t up to me.”

“Stop beating yourself up,” Natasha spoke up this time. “Whatever happened, happened. It wasn’t your fault. It was the Red Room. You know very well it isn’t something you can just take the fight up against.”

Her words made you fall silent. You knew their power had always been way above yours, and you wished you could believe that none of this was your fault, but it seemed impossible to ignore all the blood on your hands.

“Come on.” Clint tugged on the end of your sleeve and pulled you closer until you had no choice but to sit down on the edge of the bed. “You remember what you told me after Loki fucked with my head?”

Sighing, you looked up at the ceiling and blinked away the tears. Clint had hit rock bottom after what Loki had made him do; you remembered it like it was yesterday. Natasha and you were the only two people in his life who truly understood what he was going through, and you made sure you were  there for him when he needed . Never once had you said he should just get over it or tried to make him feel better with lies; you had told him honestly that it’s going to be awfully hard, but time would help. He’d never forget what had happened, but eventually he’d learn to live with it and forgive himself. 

“I know, but…”

“No buts,” Nat said. “You’ve already been through this once before. The fact that you feel all of this… guilt and regret, it just shows that you’re better than what they’ve tried to make of you. Better than you used to be. If anyone needs to say sorry than it’s us for believing you’d really leave us.”

Everything they said touched your heart, making it feel so full it was almost painful. “Thank you,” you said hoarsely, on the edge of crying. “But you don’t need to say sorry for that. I know Steve feels guilty as well but it isn’t his fault and neither is it yours. It’s only on me that you thought I’d do it.”

“No, it’s—” Nat started, but Clint cut her off with a groan.

“Geez, can we stop this? I can’t really follow anymore who’s fault is what anymore. We’re all terrible people. Now let’s move on.”

Nat and you both punched him in the shoulder at the same time. “And you’re the worst of all of us.” 

“No one doubts that. But you love me.”

“Do we though?” You asked, looking at Nat with a frown.

“I don’t know,” she replied, standing up from the bed. “He’s pretty insufferable.”

“Wait, no,” Clint said. “Come back and love me.”

Nat and you looked at each other, unable to stifle a laugh, before you both launched yourselves at Clint, hugging him. He whimpered, but he wrapped his arms around the both of you. “You’re going to crush the life out of me.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t love to die under two women.”

“Yeah. You’re absolutely right I would.”

* * *

Even though your conversation with Clint and Natasha had lifted your mood, you decided to stay alone for a little while longer. Steve respected your decision and didn’t even try to step over your boundaries. When he bumped into you in the hallways, he always asked how you were feeling, but understanding that you needed more time, he never pushed you into long talks. While you were thankful to him, in a way, you missed him. He was at an arm’s reach every minute and you longed after him, but you knew you’d regret it if you jumped into something so soon. At first, you needed to sort out your own thoughts, which wasn’t easy. 

It seemed as your soulmate bound cleared the fog in your head, but it couldn’t make you forget all the things that happened in the past months. Many nights you woke up sweating and screaming, forgetting where you were. Crying and panting, unable to decide if it was real or not, a memory or a nightmare. 

You needed two weeks to realize and accept that you didn’t have to deal with all of this alone. Besides the supportive friends you had, there was your soulmate, who was supposed to love you unconditionally. You knew, because you felt the same way about Steve. 

It was late at night, way past after midnight when you left the bedroom and headed to the gym. Spending so much time doing basically nothing was something completely new for you and you needed to blow off some steam to be able to rest. The doors of the elevator opened as you waited, but you didn’t step in as Steve walked out. 

He was wearing comfortable clothes, but he looked exhausted. There were deep frowns over his forehead, but they slowly vanished while he watched you.

“What are you doing up so late? Are you okay?

“I am,” you said, reassuring him. “As it turns out, sitting idly all day doesn’t exhaust you enough to fall asleep early.” 

Steve smiled, relieved. “You really need some rest, though.” 

“Yeah. But what about you? You look tired.”

He took a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. There were many things he still didn’t share with you, but considering the circumstances, he figured it could wait. “Just the usual.”

The doors of the elevator closed and you still stood in the dimly lit corridor, staring at each other silently. Steve felt like he should go but he wanted to be close to you so badly, it was hard to take a single step. When he finally made up his mind and opened his mouth to say goodnight, you cut him off before he could utter a single word. 

“Can we talk?”

“Like… now?”

“Yes. I mean… I know it’s late, so if you want to go to sleep we can talk tomorrow…” 

“No,” Steve said quickly. Even if he was a little drowsy before, all was gone and he had never felt more awake thinking that he could finally speak with you. “We can talk.” 

The living room was eerie- silent and dark, but you only turned on the lamp by the couch before you plopped down on it. Steve brought you a glass of water that you thanked him for with a smile while he took a seat. He watched as you fiddled with the string of your pants, waiting patiently for you to collect your thoughts. 

Eventually, he broke the silence. “How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you said honestly. “Nat and Clint got me through the worst.”

Steve smiled, but there was a little sadness in his eyes. He was happy you had friends you could count on and that you started getting better, but he wished he could be there to help you. There was a distance between the two of you again, something that you had already overcome once. It hurt to see that you couldn’t hold his gaze for more than two seconds, that you felt nervous around him, and that he was not a part of your life. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” you said, as if you were reading his thoughts. “It wasn’t because of you. I just…” you stopped, shaking your head before you looked up at him. “I just couldn’t even look into your eyes after what I’d done.”

It had crossed Steve’s mind that the reason why you didn’t want to be near him was because you felt ashamed, but he had hoped he was wrong. He genuinely didn’t know how he could get you through this, how he could help  ease the pain and remorse you felt. 

“Look, I’ve already been through all of this,” you said. It was always hard to articulate your thoughts, as you had never had much of a chance to talk about your feelings to anyone. Somehow, with Steve, it was easier. “When I joined S.H.I.E.L.D., I was actually pretty optimistic at first, but working for the good guys gave me a new perspective. Something I’ve never had before. There were times when I couldn’t see what I did was wrong, or I didn’t care, because that was what they made of me. With S.H.I.E.L.D., I quickly started to see how bad everything that I did for the K.G.B. was. Decades of guilt just crashed down on me. And I had to deal with other agents whispering behind my back, knowing that no one believed I belonged there. After a while, I stopped caring about them. I kept telling myself to move on. I still felt terrible every time I remembered something I did in the past, but I started to learn to live with it. But now… I was just pushed back into it. I can’t just… continue my recovery where I left it. I have to start over. What I’m trying to say though… I know I can get through this. I just need time.”

“Of course,” Steve breathed out. “I understand. And I want to help you. I mean—if you still want to stay away from me, I’m not going to push you. But I want you to know that I’m here and you have no reason to feel ashamed of sharing  anything with me.” 

“I’d actually like to spend more time with you,” you smiled, and it melted Steve’s heart. He thought it would be harder to convince you, to get you back, and now he felt more relieved than he thought it was possible. “But…” 

_ Of course there’s a but _ , Steve thought and his stomach dropped. In the two short seconds that you paused to take a deep breath, a million different possibilities flashed through his brain about what you were going to say.

“But I can’t be with you  _ like that _ yet.”

“Like what?”

“Like… your… soulmate?” you said, making Steve frown with your uncertain tone. “The last time we met you kissed me and I loved it, I wanted it—I wanted even more, to be honest,” you added, not missing the way the tip of Steve’s ears turned pink. “But now… I’m not ready for any of this. For a romantic relationship. It’s something I’ve never had before and focusing on that while I need to figure myself out too… I feel it would be too much.”

“Y/N,” Steve sighed, sitting closer. “You  _ are _ my soulmate. You’ve been my soulmate ever since we were born and you were my soulmate even when we were thousands of miles away from each other. Nothing ever will change that. We can go slow. We can get to know each other. I just want to be here for you. We don’t have to  _ do _ anything or  _ be _ anything for that.

A quiet chuckle left your lips. If anyone else had said the same words, you probably wouldn’t have believed them, but he sounded so honest, so genuine, it made tears well up in your eyes. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said. “People I’ve met haven’t usually been so patient.” 

Steve smiled. “I’ve waited nearly a hundred years to see you. I can wait a hundred more if that’s what it takes. And if I can stay close to you by being just your friend, I’d be more than happy to do that as well.”

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed, filled with love in a way you had never had a chance to feel before. Biting down on your lip to stop its trembling, you leaned closer to hug him. Steve didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, gently rubbing your back. He laughed when you squeezed him closer and when you pulled back to look at him, your smiling eyes made his heart swell with joy. 

You spent a little more time talking, before you decided it was time to call it a night. Steve walked you back to your room, you were feeling more relieved than you had felt in a very long time. Both of you knew that there was still a long way down the road before you were able to fix everything, but neither of you wanted to ruin the mood. For a change, you were both filled with so much hope; you wanted it to last as long as it could. 

“Well then… I think I’ll see you around more.” 

Steve smiled. “Yeah. And we could go somewhere together, if you want to. I mean, staying at this place all the time can be a little too much. So we could go—I don’t know. It doesn’t have to be a date…” 

“A date sounds nice,” you cut his rambling off, much to his relief. “I’ve actually never been on one before.” Not a real one, at least. 

“A date it is, then.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I’m back!! I’m sorry I’ve made you wait so damn long for this update, but I hope this part will make up for it. There’s going to be one last chapter after this. *cries*  
> ((and maybe an epilogue? we’ll see))

**Brooklyn, 1937**

There were days when the pain was sickening, searing, and way too much to bear. Distraction never helped, as there was nothing engaging enough to take Steve’s mind off of how badly and severely his soulmate was being hurt. Days when the throbbing and stinging were so intense he couldn’t sit tight, even though moving made everything worse. Panic rising in his chest, he would pace up and down in his bedroom, panting, his lungs heavy and burning. He felt as if his skin was on fire and he would take his sweat soaked-shirt over his head, hoping the cool air would give him some ease. He wouldn’t stop until the pain sucked out all of his energy and he curled up in a ball under the covers, shivering from exhaustion, waiting for relief. 

Other times, it was like a background noise. The ache was dull, but it was there, endlessly reminding him there was someone else in the world who felt the very same way. Considering how many times he had gotten himself into trouble, or how many health issues he had been suffering from, sometimes Steve couldn’t even tell whether the pain was his own or his other half’s. This helplessness drove him crazy, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop his soulmate’s anguish.

“What’s wrong?”

Steve lifted his head, blinking. He felt disoriented, as though he didn’t know what he was doing at his own home after he was lost in his thoughts for so long. He had wandered far away, trying to imagine shapes, colours, a curve of a smile. Sparkling eyes. The gentle touch of a soft skin on his own. Everything felt so vivid and close for a few minutes, but he was back, sitting in the tiny, familiar kitchen. It seemed so colourless now with its pale yellow walls, shabby cabinets, white chairs, white drawers, white curtains.

Sarah Rogers could light up a whole room. She dressed simply, long grey dress with hundreds of tiny, white flowers; her apron stained with flour and egg yolk. Long honey blond hair with only small hints of greys pulled up into a tight bun, deep blue eyes looking at Steve so fondly that for a moment, he forgot there was anything bad happening in the world. His mother was waiting patiently for an answer, watching him over her shoulder while she washed her hands. 

“Nothing,” Steve said shortly, squirming in his seat. He glanced down at his long-forgotten sketchbook, lifting the pencil before he quickly changed his mind and pushed them both away. He rubbed his chest through the fabric of his sweater, almost absentmindedly, when he heard the creaking of the wooden chair as his mother sat down across him.

“Is it your soulmate?” Sarah asked quietly. “Does it hurt?”

It always hurts, Steve thought, but stopped himself before he could say it. His hand fell on the table, picking at his fingernails while he gave a nod. 

“What else?” Her question made Steve frown, but she only smiled. “I know that look too well by now, dear. What’s bothering you?”

Steve took a deep breath, slowly releasing it while he shook his head. His mind was racing. What he should tell her, how he should say it; should he say anything at all? Steve trusted his mother more than he trusted anyone else, but he believed some things were better left unsaid. Sarah had suffered so much already, and even though she tried not to show it, Steve knew that seeing him sick, weak and in so much pain deeply hurt her. He didn’t want to increase it by telling how badly someone - or something hurt his soulmate. 

“I’ve been thinking…” Steve started slowly, phrasing his words as carefully as he could. He couldn’t tell the whole truth, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t share a part of his concerns. “What if I can’t help them? What will happen when I find my soulmate, and they’ll be in pain, and I’m just going to have to watch and feel them suffer because there isn’t anything I could do to help? Every time I feel they’re hurt and I do nothing about it, I feel like I’m responsible too. I know about it and I do nothing to stop it. I just… I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Steven,” Sarah said softly, placing her hand on top of his to stop his fiddling. “You could never hurt a fly.”

Steve forced a smile, but it faded quickly. “I hate this… I hate that I can’t do anything.”

Sarah sighed, thinking, before she started to speak quietly. “You’ve got something so very valuable from life. There aren’t many people out there who get to experience the same connection that you have with this person. I know it’s hard to see the  bright side now, when it seems so hopeless to find them, but try to appreciate this great gift you have. It is going to work out. And…” She tightened her grip on Steve’s hand; the corner of her lips curling up. “Maybe I don’t know much about having a soulmate, but I do know what it feels like to see someone you love being hurt while you’re unable to help them.” 

Her words made Steve’s heart wring so deeply he was sure his soulmate could feel it as well. He got used to being in pain, but he hated that it affected his loved ones, too.

“Sometimes the best you can do is just… be there.”

Steve smiled, this time more genuinely. He wanted to believe so badly that what she said was true; he knew it was, at least to a certain extent, but he wished he could do more. That is, of course, something for the future. For now, he couldn’t even be at his soulmate’s side.

Before he could sink even deeper into despair about feeling so very far away from his significant other, a loud knock interrupted him. It startled him on the quiet Sunday morning, but after taking a deep breath, he slipped off the chair and made a beeline to the front door.

Bucky’s hand was raised, ready to knock again. He had an amused smile on his lips as he stepped in, slinging an arm over his best friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey pal,” he said, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our plans for today.”

Steve pursed his lips into a thin line. He had definitely forgotten about them.

“Seriously.” Bucky shook his head, letting out a weary sigh. He stopped at the doorway, taking his shoes off before Sarah could threaten to kick him out if he walked into the house still wearing them.

“Look, Buck,” Steve started, rubbing his forehead. “I’m not really in the mood to go anywhere today.”

“You always say that, and we always have fun anyway,” he said, turning to look at him, before he approached the kitchen. “Hi Mrs. Rogers. I hope you don’t mind if I steal this punk for a few hours.”

“Please do,” Sarah replied with a small smile, glancing at Steve. “But at least try not to get in any trouble.”

“Mrs. Rogers, when did we ever—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, James.”

Steve watched from the door as Bucky stepped to the counter, stole a freshly baked potato pan roll off the tray, and complimented his mother in a way that caused the woman to roll her eyes. She had asked about his parents and his little sister, but the conversation sounded faint and indistinct to Steve’s ears. All he could hear and see were the bright, sparkling eyes and loud, cheerful laughter. He didn’t even realize the smile that slowly tugged on the corner of his lips. He so often had the tendency to isolate himself from the world, but his mother and Bucky always knew how to pick him up from the ground. Sometimes an angry little voice told him that he would be better off alone, but he was happy he had at least two people in his life who had always been there for him. He only wished his soulmate could tell the same.

**Manhattan, 2014**

_Not guilty._  Steve never thought two simple words could ever make him feel so relieved, but after he heard them at the end of your hearing, it was as if he could take his first deep breath in weeks. 

Even though he believed in your innocence and he knew the only reasonable decision was to drop all charges, he had seen enough injustice to know how badly it could have all turned out. It kept him on the edge of his seat, but he tried not to show it. Steve could see that you slowly started getting better, a little more relaxed with each passing day, but the upcoming hearing put a weight on your shoulders, too. He didn’t want to stress you out even more, or make you think that he had no faith in you; there wasn’t much he could do to help, but he knew sometimes it were the small things that really mattered. 

The simple thought of losing you again, to let you slip through his fingers like sand terrified him, but it was finally over—or so he would expect. No more nightmares, he thought; no more sleepless nights and restless days. Now he could be there for you whenever you needed him, he could help ease your pain; he could finally take you on that date he had been dreaming about for as long as he could remember, he could kiss you and hold you in his arms if you would let him.

However, his joy didn’t last long.

Steve could read nothing on your face. He expected to see relief or surprise; he hoped for a smile or even laugh, but there was nothing. Seeing this kind of emptiness was already familiar to him from Natasha, but it took him a while to understand that it wasn’t real. You did feel, but you had everything suppressed and locked in somewhere so deep that it was hard to find any trace of it. The two of you had grown up and lived in a world where showing emotions - especially openly, around many people - was a weakness; a fatal flaw. Since you left the K.G.B., perhaps you had learned that it was not true, but it wasn’t something you could just shake off, forget and act like everything was normal. It was a long process with baby steps, years or even decades of hard work, and even then, Steve had to accept that maybe there will always be a wall built around you that no one, not even him could bring down.

Still, he hoped that once you were in private and out of the limelight, you could get more relaxed, but it didn’t seem to happen.

* * *

The two little words echoed in your head like a broken record, shutting out every other thought. Head kept down and steps quick, you tried to fight your way through the sea of people that had gathered in front of the building. There was a comforting hand on your back, a body close behind yours, shielding you from the nosy crowd.

A sigh left your lips when you could finally sit in the car, hiding from the blinding flashes of cameras and the questions that strangers shouted at your face. Forehead pressed against the cold window, you closed your eyes, feeling a little better now that no one could see you through the dark glass.

While Nat started the engine, you heard Clint’s rambling about the “fucking journalists” and “why don’t they have anything better to do”, followed by cracking knuckles on your left. Steve sat with his body tensed like a bowstring, fists and jaw clenched, angry lines creasing his forehead. He looked like he was moments away from snapping at the reporters and you were glad you had already left them behind before he could have done something he would regret later. You put a hand on top of his, and even without looking at him, you could feel as he calmed down under your touch. 

The drive back to the Avengers Towers passed in a blur; you zoned out and even if anyone in the car was talking to you, you didn’t notice them. Nat knew that with this draining day behind you all you wished was to be left alone, so after she made you promise you would call her if you needed someone, she walked away with Clint at her heels. He said something that made Nat smack the back of his head, but you were too deep in your thoughts to catch his words.

Steve, without question, followed you through the hall and up in the elevator, walking you to your living quarters. He had a glint in his eyes and a hopeful smile on his lips, as if he could either break out in tears of relief or scream with happiness. His body language was so very telling: he looked like all the things that had happened just finally sank in, but he tried to hold himself back for your sake. It shattered your heart to see him like this—beaming, bright and excited, because you knew that you couldn’t feel the same way. You wished you could; you really did. 

“We should celebrate tonight,” he said with a nervous edge on his tone,  swaying on the balls of his feet. “What do you say?”

You swallowed, trying and failing to give him a genuine smile. “Maybe another time.”

The room was awfully silent and empty without Steve being there with you, but as much as you would have loved to be with him, you weren’t sure you could deal with his optimism and undying faith in you right now. There were things he could never understand, such as your lack of positive reaction after you were pronounced not guilty. You didn’t want to hear him saying that  _of course they released you_ , after all, you were  _not guilty_ , that  _none of this was your fault_ , that you were  _a victim_ ; you didn’t want him to look at you like you had never done anything bad in your entire life.

Because even if that was what he really thought, you could never view yourself the same way he did. You were raised and grew up in a world where there were no such things as innocent and guilty—there were only orders to follow. A normal person with a normal childhood within normal circumstances would probably ask why would you do anything so bad instead of quitting; most people would have rather died than doing all those horrible things that you did. Perhaps if you could think clearly, you would have chosen death as well. 

But that was something you were unable to do for decades. For you, there was no difference between good and bad, or if it was, that scale was very different from others’ point of views. The Red Room made sure to teach you their ways, to shape you from a very young age so they could use you later to their own liking. It wasn’t hard, really. You were just a child when they got their paws on you and your entire world was between the walls of what you thought was an ordinary boarding school. They could tell you whatever they pleased to tell, and having no other source of information, you blindly believed them. Their words were your one and only window to the world, and it took you miserably long to understand that you were nothing more than a doll in their game.

Free from the K.G.B. and everything they stood for, you finally had a better perspective. It was as if you saw clearly for the first time, except you didn’t even realize you had been looking at the world through someone else’s eyes. There was a time when you thought you lived your best life, but it was only because you didn’t even know there was another option. You were brainwashed from the time you knew how to talk, to think what you were doing was normal. 

That, of course, raised a lot of questions; one in particular that kept bothering you these past few weeks. Were you really innocent only because at the time, you didn’t know what you were doing was bad?

Somewhere deep, a small part of you knew what you should feel. You were supposed to be grateful to everyone who stood up for you and made it possible for you to be here instead of a small cell in the Raft, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It simply didn’t feel right to be here as a free woman, in a comfortable room in the Avengers Tower, surrounded by gods and heroes and people who risked their lives to make the world a better place every single day. You wanted to be punished—not only because you hoped it would ease the gnawing guilt, but also because you truly thought you deserved it.

It was late at night when you decided to crawl out of bed and leave the room. Dreams didn’t want to come even after long hours of tossing and turning, so you gave up on any chance of sleep. The sky was clear and the moon was at its fullest, illuminating the deserted corridors almost as if it was daytime. For what felt like an eternity, you stood at the window in one of the common areas, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, down at the city that never slept. Sometimes you loved these places, the ones that were busy without a break; the cacophony of sounds from the street below and the television left on kept the unwanted thoughts away. But nothing helped now—silence drove you crazy, loud noises made your head ache. Some soft music turned out to be the only thing that gave you some respite. 

Steve wasn’t really surprised to see you curled up on the couch at these late hours, just as you weren’t surprised to see him, either. The music swallowed the quiet rumble of the elevator, but the sound of the doors sliding open caught your ears, and you knew immediately who was going to step into the room. Perhaps it was the reason you were here instead of hiding somewhere where no one could find you, even though you told yourself you wanted to be alone; because you knew there was a chance he would show up as well. 

He gave a small wave, exchanging a weak but honest smile with you, before he disappeared behind the counter to pour himself a glass of water. It was needless to ask why wasn’t he sleeping; you knew he had been worrying himself sick lately, although he tried his best to keep it to himself. Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked away from him. You didn’t want him to bottle up his emotions just to make you feel better; you didn’t want him to worry about you so much in the first place. Steve felt miserable, you could tell, and you blamed yourself. You were his soulmate—you were supposed to protect him and make him happy, but so far, you had caused him nothing but pain. 

Just when tears started to burn your eyes, threatening to escape, Steve stepped to you, interrupting the soul-crushing thoughts. There was a soft smile on his lips as he watched you, holding out his hands. Almost without realizing it, like it was a mere instinct, you reached out to slip your palms into his, letting him to pull you up on your feet.  He led you away from between the couch and the table, stopping where there was more room, before he put his arm around your back and brought you closer to him.

You laughed, short and breathy, lightly furrowing your brows. “Steve, I…” The words died on your lips as you realized you didn’t want him to stop; you didn’t want him to step back and leave you there, alone. 

He was a little clumsy, as if he was either nervous or couldn’t find the rhythm to the music, but seeing as it made you smile, Steve thought that maybe this was exactly what you needed at that moment. He swayed you back and forth, playful and out of sync to music until your grin grew and grew and you broke out into a sweet, genuine laugh that filled his heart with warmth. Steve twirled you under his arm, once and twice and one more time, dramatically tipping you backwards. His moves were so unlike him—unpredictable, sloppy and messy, you felt like you were seeing a new side of him. 

With your chuckle echoing in his ears, he pulled you up and pressed you close to his own body, squeezing you into a warm hug. One hand still in his, another crumpling the shirt on his chest, you glued yourself to him tightly, as if you were scared to let go. He slowed his pace down, rocking you gently, this time easily adjusting to the rhythm of the music. As you buried your face into the crook of his neck, eyes closed and holding onto him like he was your last pillar of strength, Steve could practically feel as the tension left your body; the heartache easing, before disappearing for good. Steve realized then that it didn’t matter whose heartache it was - your pain or his - it never did. As cruel as it was, it had always been something that you shared, tying you to each other through all these long decades, across the world; a constant reminder that a part of one was always there for the other. 

Now that he was dancing with you, completely melted into him, safe and relaxed, Steve could finally find some sense in all this mess. He would be lying if he said he understood everything, but he knew one thing—you belonged to one another in a way that nothing and no one could ever ruin.

The magical moment ended with the song, and as silence settled in the room, you pulled back from Steve. The change of the atmosphere was almost palpable. With one arm still around you, Steve watched as your face changed, from smooth to exhausted once again. You cast your eyes down,  standing still for another moment before you walked back to the couch, pulling your legs up as you sat down. Steve followed, taking a seat next to you, but he stayed silent.

“Thank you for trying to cheer me up,” you said quietly as music filled the room again. “But I’m not good company right now.”

“You don’t have to be.”

His words made you smile, not happily but in a thankful way; everything Steve said sounded so honest and meaningful. His presence had a strange affect on you and you weren’t sure if it was your soulmate bond or something else, but you felt like you could tell him anything. And probably that was why the next question left your lips, 

“Do you really think I deserve this? A second chance?”

Steve’s features softened. “Of course you do.”

“And what if it was about someone else? Please, be honest with me. If someone, a stranger to you, did the same things as me… Would you feel the same way? Would you stand up for them and would you say they deserve a second chance?”

Dr. Erskine was right when he said the serum amplifies everything; Steve just couldn’t even grasp back then how much. He had always been bad at lying, the remorse too consuming to let him; it only increased after he got injected with the serum. Usually, he didn’t mind it, and now, when you asked all these questions, he didn’t feel like he should tell anything else but the truth.

“I would,” Steve said, and he could see as your eyes softened. He knew you still didn’t share his opinion, but perhaps it was enough for you to hear that he truly meant what he said. 

Sighing, you shifted closer to him until you were pressed against his side, forehead gently falling to rest against his. He reached out to take your hand in his; the sound of your steady heartbeat soothing him.

“I know what you think. That you should be punished and locked into jail for what you did,” he started, barely above a whisper. “If I was in your place, I’d probably want the same thing. But we’re always harder on ourselves, aren’t we?” Steve pulled back only enough so he could look at you, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger to lift your gaze to meet his. He moved to your cheek then, his knuckles wiping away invisible tears, before his hand fell and rested on your knee. “I think you deserve a second chance and you know why? Because the first time you had a choice, you decided to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Not out of fear and not because you had a debt to pay, but because you wanted to do something good. And yes, you’ve done bad things in the past - whether it was up to you or not - but so have most of us here. People who have at least a little insight of the life we live and people who care about you aren’t going to turn their backs at you because of your past.”

A smile stretched across your lips after he finished, your laugh filling Steve’s ears. 

“What is it?”

“I just thought this was the last thing I wanted to hear,” you said, taking a deep breath. “But now I’m really glad you told me all of this. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Steve smiled and lifted your hand to his lips, fingers still intertwined as he kissed the inside of your wrist. “That’s the least I can do.” 

There were very few words spoken that night as talking didn’t feel necessary; you just wanted to enjoy being alone together. Snuggling closer to Steve, head on his chest, you clung to him like your life depended on it. His grip around you became tighter too, stronger than he would usually allow himself, but he was careful not to hurt you. Neither of you said what both of you thought—the memory of the last time you fell asleep next to each other still too vivid, still too frightening. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you whispered, half-asleep; and sure enough, when Steve woke up hours later, you were still safely tucked into his arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I know I said one last chapter but - surprise - you’ll get one more after thins, and an epilogue! We’re getting close to the end. *sobs*  
> Thank you for reading & commenting.

A normal date. That was all you wanted. An ordinary, boring dinner date with all its stupid clichés, where you could both be so cheesy romantic that others near your table wouldn’t stop throwing disapproving looks your way. Even though acting like that wasn’t really you, nor was it Steve, you craved that kind of normalcy around him. 

However, if you wanted to be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure that was possible for you and him. Perhaps it was only a beautiful, false dream that you kept holding onto with tooth and nail, no matter how loudly a little voice told you that you shouldn’t be so naive. Steve had always been your beacon of hope. For many long years, when everything seemed pointless, it was enough to think of your soulmate to help you to stand up and keep going. _When I meet him, it’s going to be better_ —you would repeat on sleepless nights, over and over again, even when there was no sign of ever finding him. 

Now he was here, sitting across you with that endearing smile that you loved so much, and you couldn’t stop worrying. You tried to shoo your fears away, telling yourself that it was all going to be fine now, but the past few weeks had shown that nothing ever would be easy and normal for the two of you. A month after the trial you reminded Steve that he owed you a date, and while he was more than happy to keep his promise, he was called away for a mission mere minutes before your dinner. Four times in a row. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you signed up for. When you looked at him, you saw Steve Rogers, your soulmate; but he was still Captain America for the rest of the world. A very short time was enough to understand that the two men were not the same. Steve was hiding under so many layers—you were sure that sometimes even he  forgot that he was more than just a shield and a suit. He had high and strong walls built up around him, walls that only a very few could break through. It made you realize that you had at least one thing in common: deep down, without ever showing it to the world, you both longed to be more than what they made of you.

That was why, when Steve asked what you would like to do on your date, you told him that you wanted something simple—no surprises and definitely nothing extraordinary. He seemed to agree and like the idea, but as you glanced at all the empty tables around the richly decorated room, you weren’t sure that he understood the concept. 

“So…” you started slowly. “Is this how a normal date usually goes for you? Reserving an entire private room only for you and your date? I wonder what you consider extraordinary.”

Steve laughed, quiet and breathless, closing the menu and placing it down on the table. “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of experience to decide what is normal and what could be considered over the top.”

Taking a sip of wine, you frowned. “You aren’t telling me it’s your first date, are you?” You asked, skepticism dripping from your tone, and you didn’t have to wait for an answer. A light shiver ran down your spine, erasing the smile from your lips. “Steve. Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for me.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” He asked with so much confidence and innocence at the same time that for a brief minute, you believed that it was exactly how it should have happened. 

“I… no, but… I never wanted you to miss out on anything because of me.”

“I didn’t,” Steve said immediately, leaning forward. He put his hand on top of yours, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “Believe me when I say I’ve never felt that way. It’s just… that’s what life brought for me. I never really had time or chance to fall in love and I never felt like I should share a moment like this with someone I have no feelings for. And now that I can be here with you—I know I was right. It was worth every second of waiting.” 

His words made your heart clench painfully tight, filling it with warmth as well. “I’m glad. Not that you waited for me—” you paused, sighing. Weeks ago you had told Steve that this was going to be your first date, and while it wasn't a lie, it wasn’t the exact truth either. You had been on many dates, although, never once out of fun. It was always work. “I’ve never had that option. And I’m happy that you did.”

Steve smiled and lifted your hands to his lips, dropping a kiss on the back of it before he let you go and leaned back in his chair. “Besides, people recognize me everywhere. I wanted this night to be just about the two of us. Without the chance of anyone interrupting us.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really want to happen,” you said. “I’m genuinely surprised your phone hasn’t started ringing yet.”

Steve sighed in relief, knowing that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t loosen up. Up until that moment, while he slowly relaxed in his seat, you hadn’t noticed  how much tension he held in his body. “I keep expecting that someone out there chooses this night to blow the entire city up.”

“Don’t tempt the fates.”

The rest of the date went by surprisingly smoothly. No one tried to burn New York down to the ground, Steve’s phone remained silent, and you didn’t seem to run out of topics to talk about. As irrational as it seemed, having nothing in common with him was one of your biggest fears. Wouldn’t it be miserable if you and the person who meant to be at your side for the rest of your lives were nothing alike?

Throughout the night, it was proven once again that he was your soulmate for a reason. It was so easy to talk to him about anything - whether he agreed with you on something or when his opinion was entirely different - it felt like you complemented each other perfectly.  

There were no awkward silences, either. Since you had met, you had spent many quiet hours together, as it didn’t always feel like you had to say a word. As different as tonight was with all the talking and laughing, you had caught Steve getting lost in his thoughts more than once. 

While you were eagerly waiting for dessert, you watched Steve as he stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His eyes were filled with emotions while he looked at the beautiful view that the restaurant provided of Brooklyn, and you realized that it wasn’t a coincidence he chose a place in this area of New York.

“You really love this city, do you?”

“It’s home,” he said, bringing his gaze back to you. “Though it’s true I’ve never really had the chance to see it from this angle.”

You smiled. “Why are you staying in the Tower, then? You could move here.”

Steve hesitated. He knew why he kept prolonging that decision—he just wasn’t sure he should tell you the reason. He didn’t want you to misunderstand, or to blame yourself again for something that wasn’t even your fault. Still, he found it very hard to keep the truth from you. “After what went down with S.H.I.E.L.D. and you…” He stopped, swallowing, and didn’t miss the way your jaw tensed. “I had no reason to stay in D.C. Of course, I could’ve moved to Brooklyn, but… I needed something to keep me busy. I’m not sure living alone would’ve helped. The Tower seemed like the best option.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you cast your eyes down as you felt a small pang of guilt, but you quickly brushed the negative thoughts away. _No, I won’t let anything ruin this night._ “Things are getting better now.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out with an honest smile. “Maybe we could start looking for a place soon.”

“We?”

The waitress arrived with your desserts and you both jolted, leaning back away from each other while she placed your plates down. The silence was heavy while you both avoided each other’s eyes, digging into the sweets just to occupy your hands.

It was a slip of the tongue, really. Steve didn’t mean to say “we” out loud, and he didn’t even realize what he said until you pointed it out. He felt uncomfortable at first; his heart nearly beating out of his chest, the back of his neck burning. After the initial panic, he slowly calmed himself down. Why should he feel embarrassed about the fact that he wanted to spend the rest of his life under the same roof with his soulmate?

“I’ve waited for so long to be with you,” Steve said slowly, making you look up at him. He paused then, staying quiet for so long that you started to think he wouldn’t say anything else. “With so many things in my life, I waited too long, until I let everything slip through my fingers. I don’t want that with you. I can’t. I can’t lose you again.” His voice quivered, so lightly that maybe someone else wouldn’t have been able to catch it. “I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore. Think about things I’ve lost. How things could have been _if_ … I just want to focus on the future. And I want you in it.” 

Steve had learned that you weren’t the kind of person who easily showed strong emotional responses. He knew you weren’t going to break out in tears and jump through the table to hug him. He knew you weren’t going to start raging either, if you didn’t like his ideas. Whatever you were thinking, it remained hidden on your features. Silence stretched out for too long, until he started to feel anxious again, and couldn’t stop himself from speaking up; this time fast, without barely taking a breath. 

“I’m not saying we have to move in together tomorrow. We can wait. It doesn’t even have to be Brooklyn, if you want to be somewhere else, that’s okay—”

“Brooklyn sounds nice,” you cut him off with a soft smile, and Steve felt as relief washed over him when the three little words left your lips. It wasn’t really about Brooklyn. It was: “I don’t want to lose you either”. It was: “I want to be with you too”. It was: “I love you”. 

Long hours passed like minutes and you were back at the Avengers Tower sooner than you would have liked to. You didn’t want this night to end. You didn’t want to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow and go back to your life, which was as far from normal as it could be. A part of you still wished that every single day could be like this one, and it was hard to accept that more than likely it would never happen.

Steve walked you back to your room, all dopey smile and flushed cheeks, hands hidden in his pockets to stop fidgeting. There was barely any distance between the two of you, his arm pressed against yours. Toying with the stem of the red rose he gave to you earlier, you were unsure what to say. You wanted to thank him for tonight, tell him how perfect everything was, but you didn’t think you could put into words the way he made you feel. Instead, you glanced down on his lips and stepped closer, letting him lean in and draw your body closer to his.

Memories of the first time you kissed flooded your mind. It was so sweet and slow back then, careful and patient; as if you had all the time in the world. Since then, Steve had to learn the hard way that it wasn’t the case. He lost you only a couple hours after he had a chance to hold you in his arms for the first time and now, knowing it could all happen again no matter how well everything went, he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. 

There were no careful nips or curious brushes this time. He held you tightly against him with one arm, his free hand cradling the back of your neck while he gently pressed you into the front door of the apartment. His kiss was searing, urgent even, pouring all the love and desperate need into it. _So many lost years_. Your own arms came to wrap around his neck, grabbing a fistful of the soft material of his shirt and trying to pull him closer, if that was possible.

“Steve,” you panted while he still chased your lips, leaning your forehead against his. “Do you want to come in?”

Steve was sure you could hear when his breath hitched. And damn, of course he wanted to take up on the offer and spend the rest of the night with you, loving you, but his worries were much bigger than he could have handled them at the moment. He didn’t feel ashamed of the fact that he had never been with a woman before—he figured that you already had a hunch about that anyway. He didn’t think he would want to wait months or years, either. Even so, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous thinking of what would happen if he walked into the room with you now. Steve didn’t feel confident enough to let go of his nervousness, and he knew it would only spoil the mood. This day had been so perfect; he didn’t want to ruin it. 

He kissed your lips, slow and tender. “I want to, but… I think—well, I think maybe we should wait, because—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, lifting a hand to his cheek. “You can just say no. You don’t have to make excuses.”

Steve smiled, visibly relaxing. He kissed you again, slow and deep, reluctant to leave you just yet. He stopped, only to change his mind and press his lips to yours again, and when you chuckled into the kiss, Steve thought that it was probably the best thing that ever happened to him. 

“I can’t believe I haven’t told you this before,” he started after he had finally gained enough self-control to pull away, just enough so he could look at you. “But you’re so beautiful, you know?”

Heat rising to your cheeks, your smile grew. It wasn’t the first time someone told this to you, but it certainly felt like it. Stroking his sharp cheekbone with your thumb, you gazed into those mesmerizing blue eyes. “You are, too.”

With one last kiss on your forehead, Steve wished you sweet dreams, and waited until you disappeared behind the door before he walked away. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and commenting. i’ll try to finish up the epilogue soon. :)

Living in the Tower was a lot stranger once you didn’t spend most of your day in your bedroom. For instance, you bumped into one or two of the Avengers all the time, which, in the beginning, made you feel rather uncomfortable. Even though you tried not caring about anyone else’s opinion about you, the little group was the closest thing Steve had to family. It was one thing to see that the media still treated you like a criminal, or reading strangers’ comments on the internet who wanted to send you to prison—but it would be entirely different if people who Steve loved couldn’t accept you. You knew he would be ready to risk it all for you, but you didn’t want him to make that decision.

Thankfully, most of the time there wasn’t any problem. Clint was always there to make you laugh whenever he found you brooding somewhere, and despite knowing everything about your past, he never judged you. Natalia understood you like no one else ever could. Steve was your home. Those were the people you didn’t have to be afraid of.

On the rare occasions when you met Stark, he wouldn’t stop interrogating you. He seemed to have no shame and a brain to mouth filter when it came to asking questions other people wouldn’t dare. Sometimes you couldn’t decide whether he was just teasing you or he actually held grudges, but after a while, you realized he was only looking out for Steve. 

Thor was fun, for the lack of a better word. He either didn’t know anything at all about you and your past or he willingly decided to act like he didn’t—anyhow, you were happy he didn’t look at you like you were a broken little thing. He was also the first person with a soulmate you had met in a very long time; it was definitely nice to talk to someone who understood what you were going through. 

Sometimes you would completely forget Bruce Banner lived in the Tower as well. At first, you thought he might be avoiding you, since he didn’t say much even if you were in the same room, but you learnt it wasn’t anything personal. He was very cautious, especially around new people.

People were always coming and going; some only once, others regularly. The biggest mystery for you was Sam Wilson. He spent more and more time in the Tower and left for a mission with Steve every now and then, but he denied that he would be an Avenger. When you asked, he never gave you a straight answer, and while he joked it away, Steve very obviously changed the subject.

Of course, you were curious about what they were doing and why they had to keep it a secret, but you knew there were things Steve couldn’t talk to you about. It didn’t bother you that much; if it was something important or involving you, he would tell you sooner or later. 

In the meantime, you tried to get back into the swing of things. Occasionally, you visited Sharon at the new S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, helping her with anything you could. She repeatedly told you that you owed her nothing, but you felt eternally grateful for what she did. If it wasn’t for Sharon, there was a chance you would be still in the Red Room. Besides, it felt good to make yourself useful, even if no one wanted to let you out on the field for now. The public hadn’t forgotten about your face since the trial and neither the Avengers, nor S.H.I.E.L.D. needed any nasty rumours spreading. 

He didn’t say, but you knew Steve was actually glad you weren’t fighting. In fact, he avoided talking about anything Captain America-related, when he could. It was obvious you couldn’t keep this up forever, but, to be quite frank, you didn’t mind it. So many people couldn’t see past the mask he had to put on; you were happy that you could be there for him and remind him that Steve Rogers was still there. You got to know a side of him that no one else did, not since he woke up in this new, strange world. 

On days when his shield rested in the corner of his bedroom, it was almost as if you were a normal couple. He took you out on dates all the time. Neither of you wanted to do anything extraordinary, but with Steve, even the simplest dates were special and exciting. He still tried to catch up with all the things he had missed and you were more than thrilled to help him. Now he could try many different foods from all over the world without ever leaving the city; hence you went on a lot of romantic dinners. You could make him watch all of your favourite movies and laugh at his reactions when something unexpected happened. Sometimes you would just spend hours having a picnic or a long walk without really going anywhere. He loved to go to museums and exhibitions as well, where you could tell him more about contemporary art. 

All things considered, life seemed to be going well; much better than you would have expected mere weeks ago. 

“You really can’t lose, can you?” You asked Steve while you left the gym together, aching and tired. He didn’t say anything but smiled, lifting his arm to dry his sweaty face on the sleeve of his shirt. “You know, a gentleman would let his lady win.”

Steve pressed the call button of the elevator, looking at you. “And what would you learn from that?”

“I’m a 90 year old assassin. What more could I learn?”

“You lost, so apparently, a lot,” he replied with a small smirk, nearly breaking out into a laugh at the way you narrowed your eyes at him.

The doors of the elevator slid open and Steve immediately straightened his back, chin up and his smile slowly disappearing while he walked into the small space filled with people. To your surprise, Sam was there as well; the look on his face telling he had found what he was looking for.

“Hey, Cap,” he said, taking his sunglasses off. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Steve replied shortly, before he turned to you with a small sigh. His voice was quieter, softer. “It shouldn’t take long. Do you want to watch a movie later?”

Nodding, you squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. He hated when you had to rearrange your plans because of him, even if it only meant he would be a few minutes late. 

Instead of your room, you went straight into his. It started getting rather familiar. When Steve came back from missions in the middle of the night, his first way always led to you. Knowing you had to suffer through all the pain he experienced on the field, he wanted to give the both of you some comfort. He needed it more than you, and not because of the physical aspect of it. That was something both of you had gotten used to a very long time ago. 

Sometimes he saw things no one ever should see, did things he wished he never had to do, and made decisions that caused him to question himself. He didn’t open up easily about his feelings, not even to you, but he still shared more with you than with anyone else. 

After a while, when you knew he was away, you waited for him in his room. Sometimes you could see relief washing over him in the moment his eyes found you, curled up in his bed. Other times, nothing seemed to help, but he would always stand back up by the next morning. He only allowed himself to be fragile with you. 

You loved Steve Rogers, but you hated to see what Captain America did to him.

Only a few moments after you finished your shower and slipped into fresh clothes, Steve was already back with a grim look on his face. He tried to smile at you—more or less honest.

“Is everything okay?”

Steve said it was, but he didn’t sound sincere. He took his time in the bathroom and while he was away, you lay down on his bed, hugging his pillow close and inhaling his scent. Training with him always exhausted you and now you were too lazy to even search for a movie to watch.

It was amazing how differently he carried himself when he wasn’t in “mission-mood”. He stepped into the room with a towel around his waist, his steps light, his features softer. You tried not to stare as it easily made him uncomfortable, but it was hard not to steal glances at his perfectly sculpted body.

Darting your eyes away, your gaze fell on the notebook on his nightstand. “Are you keeping a diary?”

“No,” Steve replied with a soft chuckle as he collected some clothes. “They’re my sketches.”

“Can I see them?” You asked hopefully. He had told you he used to draw a lot, but he never showed you anything before.

“Sure.”

Steve quickly pulled on his clothes in the bathroom before he returned. His hair was still damp, his cheeks red from the steam and the hot water, and you could smell the soapy scent of his skin as he lay down behind you. He sneaked an arm around you, his head pressed against your back.

“These are really beautiful, Steve,” you said, flipping through the pages of his sketchbook. He drew the simplest things from the perspective he saw them—mostly buildings, flowers and landscapes. He didn’t draw people much, but there was a face that kept reappearing. “Who is she?”

He propped his chin up on your shoulder. “My mother.”

You took his hand that he rested on your stomach, squeezing gently. He told many stories about his mother, how important she was to him; and how he lost her when he was only eighteen. 

“Did she know about me? That you have a soulmate?”

“Of course,” Steve replied, and in that moment, you realized how stupid your question was. Of course she knew about it,  _she was his mother_ —but how could you know? You didn’t even know who your real parents were. “She and Bucky were the only ones who knew.”

“Who’s Bucky?”

Steve fell silent. Without seeing his face, you felt something had changed from the way his body tensed behind yours. Just when you wanted to turn to him, he shifted to sit up on the bed. He waited until you sat too, heaving a deep sigh before he spoke,

“Do you remember that childhood friend I told you about?”

“You mean the one who always saved your ass?”

He smiled, but it disappeared quickly. Other times he would have argued that  _no, that didn’t actually happen like that_ , but he didn’t have the strength for it now. Whatever was going through his head, he looked like it was causing him physical pain, and you could feel the ache in your heart. “I didn’t tell you everything about him. We—he fought in the war too. He had a chance to come home but I wanted him to fight with me. And he died.”

“Steve,” you said quietly, reaching out to rub his arm. This wasn’t the first time you heard his survivor’s guilt speaking. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you didn’t force him into anything; it was his choice to stay with you.”

He didn’t say a word while he crawled out of the bed and rummaged through the drawer of his nightstand. You were confused, questions flashing through your mind, and a few moments later, a small part of you wished that you would have never got a question to any of them.

“You’ve met him too,” Steve said as he plopped down next to you, holding a dossier.

You didn’t need to read a single word. It was enough to see the pictures on the first page to make your stomach sink to the floor. 

“That’s your friend? You—you said he died.”

“He did,” Steve said, turning a page. The reports were all written in Russian, with a handwriting that looked too familiar.

You spent the next, seemingly never-ending minutes reading the files. They explained how the K.G.B. found Steve’s friend frozen in the icy water, technically already dead. How they managed to bring him back to life, hoping he had the super soldier serum flowing through his veins. How he had lost all of his memories due to brain damage and how Department X used this to their advantage. How they slowly, but successfully shaped him to be loyal to no one else but to them.

There were notes of events you had already known about—such as he was sent to train the widows and the new sleeper agents. Many, many mission reports of all the horrible things they made him to do. You wished Steve never had to read those. 

Then, as you reached the first incident report in 1973, you felt the tip of your fingers burning under the weight of the thin paper.

“See, he remembered,” Steve said what you had already known, and you felt sick. Sick of yourself and sick of that the Red Room still had an effect on your life after all these years. How long would your past haunt you? “They sent him here but he didn’t go back to Russia. Because this place was familiar to him. He remembered… he had to remember something—anything—”

“I know,” you cut him off, staring off into the distance. Tears were threatening to escape, and while you were scared of his reaction, you didn’t even consider keeping this from him. “I… I was the one who took him back.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and peeked into the report again. He didn’t remember reading your name, but perhaps he missed something. “You did?”

You nodded without looking at him. The memories were still hazy, dreamlike. “I don’t remember everything. They wiped me too when we went back. But I know I did it. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Steve said after a little hesitation, wrapping both of his arms around your body. You wanted to pull away first, not feeling like you deserved his comfort, but you melted against him too soon, too quickly, letting your tears soak his shirt. “You were both victims.”

“He fought against it. Against me. He didn’t want to go back to Russia. If I let him go—”

“So why did they take your memories? Because they saw that you were torn over what you’ve done. That you disagreed with them.” Steve held you tighter. He didn’t ask how could you force him to go with you when fighting with the Winter Soldier was even a challenge to Steve; he knew some things were better left unsaid. It hurt knowing the person he loved took any part in what Bucky had to go through, but he understood that you didn’t have a choice—just like Bucky didn’t have one, either.

Of course, you knew why they took your memories. Because you questioned them. Because you knew more than you should have about the Winter Soldier. Because you learned about his relationship with Nat. The last thought made you wonder if she had told Steve about it, and since you had no idea, you realized how little you knew about what was going on with her lately. You had been so caught up in your own mystery in the past weeks you didn’t even think of asking her about the Winter Soldier. You would definitely talk to her once she came back from her mission. 

You let Steve hold you for a little longer, until you calmed down; then you closed the dossier and threw it behind your back. Steve hadn’t finished yet, but you were afraid of what more he had to say.

“I fought him last year. He didn’t remember me but—he saved my life. He’s still in there somewhere.”

He dropped his gaze, and your heart ached for him. Steve had to fight with the two people he loved the most, without either of them recognizing him. You still remembered vividly how broken he looked when you stared at him like he was a complete stranger, no more than an enemy to kill; you just didn’t know up until now that he had already gone through this once. 

“So that’s what you’ve been doing with Sam,” you said. “You want to find him.”

Steve nodded. “We’re trying. But he’s completely disappeared. There’s not a single trace of him.”

Long, heavy minutes passed in silence. You were both upset and deeply hurt, though for somewhat different reasons. 

“Steve,” you said quietly, lifting your gaze at him. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

Letting out a slow breath, you tried to collect your thoughts and put them into words. You didn’t want him to misunderstand you and think that you wanted to talk him out of something. “I know he means a lot to you, but you know he’s not the same person you grew up with, right?”

“I know that,” he said. “I know. But I can’t let him be out there, alone, while he doesn’t know who he is. He needs me,” he added with a small shrug. “And I think maybe I need him too.”

“Have you considered that he probably doesn’t want to be found?” You asked as gently as you could, but you knew the question still hurt him. Steve knew. There wasn’t any sign of it that Bucky would back with Hydra, or whatever that was left of the Red Room—he was by himself, hiding. 

“He’s alone,” Steve repeated himself. “He didn’t even know his own name. Imagine how confused he must have been. I can’t give up on him. I can’t.”

For some reason, knowing he had such strong feelings and faith in someone filled you with warmth. That was Steve. He would never give up on anyone. 

“I will help you.”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Steve—”

“No, Y/N. You told me before, not even once, that you want yourself a normal life. You know more than anyone how dangerous it is to go after Bucky. You did once and it got you back into the Red Room. How could I drag you into this?”

“Do you really think a normal life is possible for us?” You asked, raising your voice. “How do you exactly imagine that? Do you think we could just move away and what? You build me a house, I grow plants in the garden and occasionally, we go on double dates with the neighbors? That’s not us, Steve.”

The tortured expression on his face made you pause, before you continued on a softer tone. “Steve, can you honestly imagine yourself settling down? Can you see yourself sitting idly while bad things are happening in the world and choosing not to act against them? I’m going to be selfish now and say that yes, sometimes I really wish you’d drop the shield and give up on being Captain America, but I know that isn’t going to happen. Not any time soon, at least. So please… let me help you to find your friend. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve put his hand on the back of your neck and leaned closer, until his forehead touched yours. His thumb swept across your jawline and you heard him letting out a shuddering breath. “I’d give up on it for you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, leaning back to look at him. “I was raised to be a weapon, just like you were made to be one. I’m not going to go and work in a coffee shop.” Steve smiled weakly; the doubts slowly disappearing from his eyes. “That’s the only thing I can do. And—I want to be with you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He pressed a kiss on your temple, before he drew you closer to wrap you in a warm hug. “That’s all I want, too.”

Steve felt an odd satisfaction washing over him. He thought that perhaps he should be scared of the future, but with you in his arms, he always felt like everything fell into place. And after all, it was all that mattered. He had his soulmate. Steve knew everything else would work out, in the end. 

_i fear_

_no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)_


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end. Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story; I know it was a heavy one, but I had a lot of fun with it.

**Two years later, Brooklyn**

Snow came early this year. People had already started getting used to the fact that they wouldn’t get any of it until January, but this December proved to be different. The temperature dropped a week before Christmas Eve, and over one long night, a thick, sparkling blanket of snow enveloped the city. It was falling even now, days later, giving the night sky a pale pink glow. 

There was something about New York during the winter that made the city exceptionally stunning. It was cold, but not as much as the chilliest parts of Russia, where you had spent so many years. A warm coat, a soft scarf, and Steve’s arm around you was enough to keep you from shivering. There was no cheek-biting, frosty wind; no snow-covered, deserted lands as far as you could see. The streets were busy, buzzing with life; the markets filled with delicious smells, and the buildings wrapped in mesmerizing, shiny, colourful decorations.

Falling in love with Brooklyn was quick and easy—maybe because it was so very different from the place you grew up in, maybe because it meant so much to Steve, or maybe a little bit of both. Either way, it found a special place in your heart within a short span of time.

“I think I realized why your fighting style is so familiar,” Steve started as you slowly walked, arm in arm. It was a date night, and you had talked him into seeing The Nutcracker with you. It was his first ballet show, and he was absolutely awestruck by it. “It’s like you’re dancing. Maybe a little more aggressively.”

“A little more,” you said with a smile, brushing a snowflake away that had caught up in his eyelashes.

Ballet was the base of everything you were taught in the Red Room. For that reason, you had many reasons to hate it, but you never could. It was a way to express yourself. A way to escape from your own mind for a little, losing yourself in the music and shutting out the world around you, even though, with your job, sometimes you could only allow yourself to slow down for a few minutes. Not many people knew this about you, and it was something that you could only do alone. Steve had asked you once to dance for him—he knew how much it still meant to you and he was keen to see your delicate moves. It didn’t end nicely. Even though Steve had your heart and soul, the memory of someone watching your every movement brought back unpleasant memories. _Too many ghosts._ You knew you could have said no, but you genuinely hoped that your past had stopped haunting you by then. It was hard to accept that there were things that perhaps you had to live with for the rest of your days, but knowing there was someone who helped you carry those heavy burdens eased the pain. 

There weren’t many times when he saw you fighting either. While Steve continued being an Avenger, you signed up to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. again. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, mainly because you wanted to be together, especially when your lives were at risk, but you had to see it was the smarter choice. It was hard to focus on anything and anyone else when you were on the field together. Of course you had tried, not even once but seeing how easily both of you could lose your heads when the other was in danger opened your eyes. You thought you could put your emotions aside for as long as it was necessary, but you weren’t sure Steve could. The world needed Captain America, and Steve couldn’t be Captain America if you were there. 

“We should go to Europe next year,” you said after you each got a cup of a sweet, hot drink. Markets were nice here, but they were nothing compared to the ones you had seen in Germany and Austria, Hungary or Poland. “Christmas fairs are beautiful there.”

Steve had been all over the world—during and after the war—but he never had a chance for sightseeing. Those trips had always been about fighting. He loved the idea of revisiting all those beautiful places, this time in peace and alongside his soulmate, without any responsibility or weight on his shoulders.

He unhooked his arm from yours, wrapping it around your shoulders to pull you closer; a smile growing on his lips. Everyone around him noticed that he had been smiling a lot lately, and you loved seeing him like this. Less worried, calmer, happier. In a way, he was still the same man you met years ago—a significant part of him was still and perhaps always will be Captain America, but he slowly started to learn how to be himself again. There was a time when he thought Steve Rogers died when he crashed the Valkyrie into the ice, but people who loved him always reminded him that he was more than just a symbol.

The news about Bucky also added to his high spirits. It wasn’t much, but it was something. After all the cold leads he had been chasing in the past years, he had started to think of the worst. He didn’t give up—he never would, but every now and then, his mind drifted to places it shouldn’t. Sometimes it would keep him up all night. _What if he’s already dead?_ Bucky had vanished off the face of Earth as if he had never existed. _What if I couldn’t save him?_ Steve wasn’t sure that he would survive if he let him slip through his fingers again. 

Learning he was alive filled him with so much hope; his whole demeanor changed the second he got the news. If you didn’t know before how important his old friend was to him, you had definitely learned now. 

After a long walk, when the tip of your nose had started to freeze off, you arrived back at your home. From the outside, it looked like any other five-floor apartment building in Brooklyn, but there was one thing that made it very different—something that only those who stepped inside could know.

You didn’t have any neighbours. 

It was your “golden mean”. Steve and you both wanted some level of normalcy in the dangerous lifestyle you lived, and this was your best option. You couldn’t afford to share a building with innocent civilians and risk their lives every single day, but you didn’t want to stay at the Compound, either. As much as Steve loved the Avengers, his family, he wanted his place with you. He had wanted it from the first time he realized he had a future with you in it, and he didn’t stop thinking about it until you signed the papers and the abandoned building was finally yours. It took a lot of time to make it look like home, even more to make it highly secured, but it was worth every second and every penny you spent on it. 

Steve stopped in front of the retina scanner and waited for the loud click of the lock, before you walked into the house. Silently, with tired smiles, you wriggled out of your coats and stepped out of your shoes. It was going to be a quiet night. You were thinking about sharing a hot, aromatic bath with Steve, maybe ask him to read something for you, and fall asleep in his arms. From the tender look in his eyes, he seemed to have similar plans. Or so you thought. 

He switched the lights on in the bedroom and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his white shirt with a sigh. Even though he looked exquisite in them, Steve didn’t like formal wear very much. You wanted to savour the last minutes he was spending in them, shamelessly resting your eyes on his perfect form, wrapped in perfect clothes. He caught your gaze while you absent-mindendly rubbed your shoulder, trying to ease the knots out, and you didn’t miss the tiny smile that lifted the corner of his lips.

“Take off your clothes.”

Putting a hand over your heart, you let out a loud gasp. “Captain Rogers! How dare you?!”

“I just want to give you a massage.”

While you stripped off your clothes, Steve shrugged out of the jacket of his suit, put his tie on the armchair by the window, and carefully rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to his elbows. He disappeared in the bathroom for only a few moments, and by the time he was back, you were in bed; laying on your stomach with your face buried into a pillow. 

“You could’ve left your underwear on.”

“Are you complaining?”

The mattress dipped under Steve’s weight and a shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his lips, pressed against the back of your neck. “Never.” 

You jolted when you felt the cold, sweet-smelling oil on your bare skin, but his palms followed quickly, warm and soothing. Steve was strong, almost scarily so. After all those years, sometimes he would still forget the physical strength his super-soldier body held, losing control over it, but never with you. When he touched you, he was always careful, tender.

He smoothed the liquid over your body in long, slow swipes, before he focused on a spot between your shoulder blades, rubbing the knots out and relieving you of all the stress. Steve loved how easily you could relax under his touch; no matter how tense your muscles were, he could make you melt into the mattress within minutes. He always knew how to add just the right amount of pressure—perhaps because he could _feel_ when the pain was still good and when it became too strong to enjoy. 

His firm, talented hands did wonders. Your body went slack, giving yourself up to the pleasure. The bedroom was silent, but your sighs and moans filled the place, and without seeing Steve’s face, you knew you were making him blush. 

After a while, you lost track of time. You weren’t sure whether you were laying there for ten minutes or ten hours, but the latter wouldn’t have surprised you, either. Steve could go on and on and on and make you feel good as long as you wanted it, and right now, you wanted nothing more than to keep him going. Even when he had massaged the knots and tension out of your body, you still yearned for his caressing touches. 

The physical side of your relationship developed slowly, but once you were there, you could barely keep your hands off of each other. It was as if you both wanted to make up for all the lost years, secretly fearing the day you might get separated again and savouring every second when you could feel his warm skin against yours.

He moved to your legs, inching up with an agonizingly slow pace, until he reached the very top of your thigh. Steve felt your muscles tense again—but only because it took every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from closing your legs around his palm. He knew that well, but it still didn’t stop him from asking,

“Do you want me to stop?”

Steve was sure your answer was the quickest “no” he had ever heard. His gentle fingers kept working on your inner thigh, kneading the soft flesh and revelling in the quiet, needy sounds that involuntarily fell from your lips. Just when you thought he would finally touch you where you ached for him the most, his hands wandered from your left to your right. He took his time, as he always did, squeezing and stroking his way up from your calf. The inside of your cheek went numb from biting down on it too hard and Steve reached up, cradling your chin and brushing his thumb over your jawline while he told you to relax. 

“You’re not making it easy.”

A low chuckle was his only answer before he slid his hand down along the curve of your spine, squeezing your hips and reaching under your thighs to push them further apart. He knew exactly how to rile you up and keep you on the edge, until you were so wound up that you jerked with every stroke of his fingers. 

“Okay,” you said then, turning around to lay on your back. Steve looked only a little surprised at the sudden movement, and just as you thought, his cheeks were flushed pink. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you pulled him down on top of you, capturing his lips into a searing kiss. 

He chuckled at your eagerness, smiling into the kiss at the way your fingers fiddled with his buttons, trying to get them open. Between the two of you, usually you were the one with more self-control. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t restrain himself—he could, probably better than anyone else, but when red-hot desire clouded his brain, he tended to fiddle clumsily with your buttons and zippers quite often. 

Steve tried to swat your hands away to help you, but before he could, you gripped his shirt and ripped it open. Breaking the kiss, Steve watched as the buttons flew away, scattering around the hardwood floor. Your lips were still on him, brushing across his jaw and down his neck while you pushed his sleeves down on his arm.

“You really liked that massage, huh?”

Your answer was nothing but a soft hum and Steve pulled back, kneeling between your legs. He shrugged out of the shirt and took the white singlet off that he wore under it before you would tore that one into pieces, too. Your hands went to his belt, eyes lingering on the prominent vein around his hip bone, but when he lowered himself on top of you, your gaze found his.

“What’s the hurry? We have time.”

Steve could see as your lust-filled eyes softened. He only wanted to tease you, but at the moment the words left his mouth, he had realized it meant more for the both of you. It was still so hard to believe that you could finally have each other; sometimes you would just stop, looking at one another and enjoy the moments you were spending together. 

Getting here wasn’t nice and easy. You had both been through hell, but looking back, neither of you thought it wasn’t worth it. Steve didn’t know if it was only because of your soulmate bond, or if his feelings for you would be the same anyway, but he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you, loving you. He didn’t know what the future was going to hold, but with you by his side, he was no longer scared of the pain. 


End file.
